


Weiss Schnee: Legacy

by Zeroan



Series: RWBY Superhero Universe [9]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-01-30 18:46:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 102,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21432961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeroan/pseuds/Zeroan
Summary: Weiss has a world to protect from monsters, a company to maintain in the light, and a younger brother to keep from turning into a copy of her father. She can handle everything just fine - until a mysterious assailant attacks her, and she is plunged into a web of conspiracies that threatens the integrity of everything she stands for.
Series: RWBY Superhero Universe [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/783903
Comments: 91
Kudos: 40





	1. A Day in the Life

_23 YEARS AGO_

_THE 142 HIGHWAY,_

_OUTSIDE ATLAS_

A black car blazed down the road, an endless roaring coming from its overworked engine and piercing the nightly silence. It was going well past the generous speed limit of that section of the highway, and had been doing so for nearly an hour now, since it had left the limits of the capital kilometers behind. It wasn't a car meant for that sort of speed, and that was reflected on its tires, which looked ready to blowout at any second.

Inside, the man driving the car was nearly hunched over the steering wheel, gripping it with off-colored knuckles. He had dark skin and his bald head was partly hidden by a black fedora. True to his manic driving, his eyes were wide open and bloodshot.

Sitting on the passenger seat was a woman of similar complexion, with dark hair that went down to her shoulders. She had a terrified look on her face, and she seemed unable to decide whether to look at the road ahead of them or the man beside her. Every so often, they would pass by a car coming from the opposite direction, just narrowly avoiding a collision, and she would jump in her seat.

"Honey," she said, her voice frightfully small. "Can you slow down, just a bit? We're going to get into an accident."

"We can't slow down. Not for a second," the man replied, looking shaken. "They're on our tail. If they catch us…"

"What if we die before they can catch us? What will it matter then?" she said.

"_What will it matter_?" He pulled on the steering wheel, making a hazardous turn as they came upon a curve on the highway. "If they get their hands on my work, then we _might as well_ be dead! Do you understand that?"

The woman looked at her lap and shook her head, but before she could say anything, a soft cry came from the back of the car. She turned around and reached for the backseat, and came back with a baby in her arms, only his face visible amidst a cocoon of blankets. She rocked him gently and planted a kiss on his forehead, then looked at her husband again, an accusation in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said, more evenly now. "I shouldn't have screamed."

"You think I care about that? This little creature would cry if a fly landed on his arm," she said, and rubbed her nose against the baby for a moment. "Do you care more about him, or your work?"

"It's not about… I am doing this _for_ him."

The woman sighed, leaning back and holding the baby close to her chest. "It's okay, little Flynt. Everything will turn out okay."

The baby's crying quieted, and he closed his eyes, slowly falling asleep again. The driver took his eyes off the road to look at them, the baby and mother – his son and wife. Without realizing it, he began to relax, a smile coming to his lips.

Suddenly, a white flash filled the car, and he heard his wife scream-

"_Honey watch out-_"

-before, in an instant, everything ended.

* * *

**WEISS SCHNEE**

**LEGACY**

* * *

"I'm speaking from the Azure Square in midtown Atlas, where a Grimm surge is about to take place. All civilians are being asked to evacuate the area, but you can see behind me – that's the portal from which the Grimm are going to come from, any moment now."

The reporter stepped aside to give the camera a better view of the square behind her. There was a mass of people panicking to get away, directed by a handful of police officers. The cemented floor was taken by a red tint, coming from the swirling hole in the air a dozen meters above it.

"We're receiving word now that the military was aware of this Surge, but perhaps by some oversight or miscalculation, they aren't fully prepared yet to exterminate the Grimm," the reporter said, and there was a slight quake to her voice. "It seems that the city police will have to contain these Grimm until they arrive here. Hopefully that will be-"

Before she could finish her phrase, the portal doubled in size, and a mass of darkness dropped from it. It hit the floor below and quickly took the shape of a wolf-like creature.

"And that's a, a Beowolf, if I'm not mistaken? T-they're the most basic specimen of – oh God."

More Grimm dropped from the portal, one by one taking form, until there were ten of them in total. At that point, the portal shrunk and faded away. The Grimm spread across the plaza, sniffing the air as if detecting a peculiar smell – yet it was no smell they were detecting, but the fear of the people running away from them. And then, united as one, the monsters released a roar that echoed across the plaza, signaling the start of their hunt.

The first Beowolf took off in a sprint, bounding towards a policeman with its jaw opened to rip flesh from bone. It landed and snapped forward with its head, ignoring the hail of bullets that peppered it – before it was enveloped in a white light. When it cleared, the creature was encased in ice, a frosty mist radiating off of it.

A human figure dropped from the sky, landing at the center of the plaza at a speed that should have caused several bones to shatter, if not an entire skeleton. The reporter stood aghast for a moment, before she regained her senses and gestured at her cameraman, beckoning him to zoom in on the figure.

It was a young woman, short in stature, with snow-white hair that, even tied in a ponytail, went down to the middle of her back. A scar marked her pale face, starting from her left cheek, passing her eye, and ending just short of her eyebrow. She wore a white peacoat and a skirt of the same color, and thigh-high boots to match.

"That's…" the reporter said, relief coloring her voice. "That's Weiss Schnee. Just in time!"

As if she'd heard that, Weiss looked over her shoulder at the camera, the faintest hint of a smile coming to her lips, before she returned her attention to the Grimm around her. She raised her hands in front of her, conjuring a glowing white glyph on each of them. The Grimm all turned to face her, cornering her in a wide circle, without a care to give to the powerless victims around them anymore.

They fell upon her all at once, and Weiss struck at the same time, shooting ice-cold beams from her glyphs that froze the Grimm they hit on the spot. She managed to do away with five of them like that before they got too close, and she was forced to dodge under their claw swipes and savage bites, conjuring a bigger glyph under her feet and using it to slide backwards and out of their immediate reach.

As the Grimm ran at her again, Weiss stood firmly and waved her hands, shaping an ethereal rapier from her glyphs. She gripped it elegantly, and with a tap with the back of her foot, bade the glyph under her to fly to her back. She jumped and kicked against the disc, propelling herself right back at the beasts, and with three measured slashes, cut their shadowy flesh and inflicted a coldness upon them that soon had them exploding into vile smoke.

Weiss landed on her feet gracefully, and with just two of the Grimm left to contend with, merely waited for them to approach her, dispatching them with her sword when they came into range. With those deal with, she walked to her first victims – the ones frozen in ice - and struck them with her rapier, shattering them into pieces that too turned into smoke.

Satisfied, Weiss Schnee tossed her sword away, and it dissolved into nothing before reaching the ground. She beat her hands and dusted off her peacoat, then climbed onto another glyph and started to rise into the air.

"Wait! Miss Schnee!" the reporter sprinted to meet the Huntress, the news crews following her in a fervor. "Would you care for an interview?"

Weiss looked down at them, pursing her lips. "I don't have much time…" She lowered her glyph until she was at ground-level again. "Fine. But please keep it short. I have a meeting in fifteen minutes."

"Thank you," the reporter said, and was silent for a few seconds as she deliberated on how to proceed. "Your arrival here was very timely, Miss Schnee. A few minutes more and we might have had a tragedy in our hands. Were you already prepared for this Surge, perhaps?"

"Not entirely," Weiss said. "As a Huntress, I'm privy to certain information regarding the Grimm. I knew there was going to be a Surge here and kept close attention, so when I heard the news…" She gestured emphatically at the square behind her. "I came as quickly as I could."

"I see." The reporter nodded. "And how do you feel about the military's response?"

"What response?" Weiss scoffed. "This is shameful, there is no other way to put it. General Ironwood and his people are investing how many billions to combat the Grimm threat, and I still have to step in at such a basic level? Atlas is the biggest city in the country, an emergency such as this should never _come_ _close_ to happening."

"You don't think they are doing enough, then."

"Clearly they aren't. And I can't keep covering for their mistakes, now can I?" Weiss said. "Not only am I a Huntress, I also help run the most important company in the world. Do they expect me to drop everything just to help them?"

"It must be difficult to juggle so many different aspects of your life at once," the reporter. "Would you ever consider going full-time as a Huntress? Perhaps you could do more good that way?"

"You don't understand. My work with the SDC is equally, if not more important than my work as a Huntress," Weiss said. "Speaking of. I really must be going now."

She started to rise on her glyph, only to come back down with a sigh as the reporter called on her again. This time, however, she held her microphone away, and the crew took that as a signal to focus away from the conversation.

"Miss Schnee, I have to thank you again for arriving when you did," the reporter said, offering her hand. "We are all truly fortunate to have you watching over our city. Thank you."

Weiss stared at her for a moment, as if she didn't know how to respond, before she took her hand and shook it, a genuine smile coming to her lips. "I was just doing my job."

* * *

Weiss stepped off her glyph and entered the SDC headquarters, barely pausing to let the automatic doors open before her. Her steps echoed across the lobby as she crossed it, not hurried but purposeful. She felt a dozen and more pair of eyes follow her as she made her way to the elevator.

The stares weren't an uncommon occurrence for her, as she'd always been a prominent figure in the company, and her notoriety had only grown in recent years. She wasn't known only as the president's daughter anymore, but as an authority figure with a voice and vision of her own – she had made sure everyone learned to see her that way. It was only natural, then, that people wondered what she was up to that warranted such urgency.

The whispers she was hearing now, however, were not so common. They were curious mostly, but she also detected apprehension coming from some of the employees. What did they know that she didn't? Nothing that would make her happy, surely.

"Thirteenth floor," she said as she entered the elevator, and it quickly rose to her destination. She stepped out into the hallway, stopping briefly to look at her reflection a window and fix her hair. Flying around the city was much easier than the hellish experience that was daytime traffic, but she had yet to figure out a way to not ruin her appearance in the process. How did Ruby pull of using her speed without becoming an utter mess every time?

Weiss shook her head and walked to the conference room on the end of the hallway. She gave a light knock on the door before going in, and she immediately understood the reason behind the tension in the lobby.

Her father, Jacques Schnee, was sitting at the head of the table nearest to the door, as was usual when he was conducting a meeting. Sitting along the sides were a handful of senior employees of the company, ones Weiss had practically grown up around but was in no way allies with. No, they were all her father's men through and through, obviously.

But what really drew her attention was the person on the other end of the table, an elderly woman with silver hair. Even sitting, she was short, and she had a look in her eyes of such polite pleasantness that Weiss had to stop herself from retching at the sight.

"Weiss," her father said, getting up to face her. "You've arrived. I'm afraid we had to start the meeting without you."

"It's no problem. Forgive my lateness, I was quite busy saving lives," Weiss said polishedly, and turned to face the elderly woman. "I'm Weiss Schnee, as I'm sure you're aware. And you are…?"

"Caroline Cordovin!" the woman half-shouted. She offered a hand, and Weiss was too startled that such a short woman could be so loud to not shake it. "It's a pleasure to meet you at last, Miss Schnee! I've heard wonders about you, tales upon tales about your elegance and intelligence, and your oh so exquisite singing voice-"

"Please, call me Weiss," Weiss said, already tired of the prattling woman. "And where would you have heard such _tales_, may I ask?"

"Ah, forgive me, Miss Schnee," Cordovin said, thankfully in a quieter tone – relatively at least. "I am a Captain of the great Atlesian Army. I've worked with your sister several times before. Quite a remarkable young woman, if a bit headstrong at times, but a great asset to the country nonetheless. One time-"

Weiss tuned Cordovin out and turned to look at her father, and a whole conversation happened between them without either saying a single word.

"Captain Cordovin is representing the Army's interest regarding the Colossus deal," her father said. "Apologies for the interruption, Caroline. May we continue where we left off?"

Cordovin nodded, and they both sat down. Weiss stared at her father a moment longer, letting him know just how displeased she was with the situation, before she took a vacant seat near the army captain.

"As I was saying," Jacques said, taking a file he had on the table in front of him and laying a hand on it. Cordovin had a copy of it and was reading it intently, as was everyone else. "The Colossus will be a mechanical unit constructed specifically for the defense against large-scale Grimm threats. It will have an approximate height of ninety meters. Its outer skeleton will be built primarily from an iron and titanium alloy, providing great resistance against-"

Weiss looked at the man sitting beside her and gestured at his copy of the file, and he slid it over to her silently. She gave it an once-over, shaking her head at the blueprint of the so-called Colossus. She found the whole concept of a giant robot – because that's what it was, a giant robot – designed to fight off Grimm ridiculous, if not outright offensive.

Her father already knew, of course. She'd made him very aware of her feelings about this project, and they'd been arguing back-and-forth about it for months. But knowledge of it had remained within the company. He hadn't dared go past her to contact outside interests, until now – and what a spectacular job of it he was doing.

No wonder he hadn't invited her to this meeting directly. If he could have, he would have had it go by entirely unnoticed by her, Weiss was sure of it.

"-all powered by a Dust Reactor Core, located safely away from the pilot in the Colossus' chest area," Jacques continued. "Within the file you'll find a list of the offensive and defensive equipment to be installed on the vehicle. Please feel free to voice any concerns or suggestions, Captain."

"Concerns? None at all! This appears to be quite a formidable weapon, fitting of the great minds of the Schnee Dust Company!" Cordovin said, smiling ear-to-ear. "You have outdone yourselves this time, Mr. Schnee!"

"We seek only to provide safety to our country," Jacques said. "Of course, for all its might, the Colossus will be next to useless without a skillful pilot at its head. But that won't be a problem, now will it, Caroline?"

"Not at all!" Cordovin exclaimed, and before everyone's eyes, she jumped to her feet on her chair and waved her fist in the air. "I shall crush all Grimm who threaten our good homeland, and beyond! The strength and pride of Atlas I will show to the world!"

Weiss nearly fell from her chair. This woman was going to be the Colossus' pilot? _This woman_?

"Excuse me, but," Weiss said, standing up. "I believe you, Captain Cordovin, should not be here for this discussion." She put her hands on the desk. "In fact, I firmly believe this discussion shouldn't be taking place altogether."

Cordovin's eyes widened as she stared at Weiss, stumbling over her words. Jacques acted more subtly, allowing little emotion to show on his face, though one would have to be stupid not to know what he thought of the interruption.

"Now, daughter, that was profoundly impolite," he said, and the other men on the table made sure to look away. "What would possess you to say such a thing in front of our guest?"

"Do not play coy with me, father. You know very well the dangers of a weapon like this _Colossus_," Weiss said. "Or perhaps you have forgotten Vale, when Cinder Fall weaponized _our_ technology and nearly destroyed a city? Because I haven't. In fact, it feels like all I've been doing since that is preach about the responsibilities we have to uphold, to never allow anything like that to happen ever again – all to deaf ears."

"If we allow the actions of one bad individual to hinder our progress, then we will remain stagnant forever, and inevitably, that will lead to our extinction," Jacques said, interlacing his fingers on the desk. "Or do you deny the threat of the Grimm?"

"I just got done killing a pack of them midtown," Weiss said, and looked at Cordovin again. "A duty that should have befallen you, mind I add. You and your people are incapable of handling the Grimm as it is, and we should trust you with a walking Dust bomb the size of a skyscraper?"

"Now, Miss Schnee," Cordovin said, her smile turning bitter. "A weapon such as the Colossus is exactly what we need to turn the tides against the Grimm. We have been lucky to avoid a major crisis so far, but the very nature of those horrible beasts dictates that luck won't last us forever. We must be prepared for what comes next."

"You already have a solution for the next crisis. _Me_," Weiss said. "And my team. You won't need anything else. So I suggest you leave, because this deal isn't happening."

"But you see, I cannot do that. I'm here by order of General Ironwood, who is very interested in-"

"Then you go back to General Ironwood and tell him to call me. He's got my number, we can schedule a conversation. I'll invite Beacon's Supreme Director, too – I'm sure he'll have _a lot_ to contribute to the discussion."

Cordovin's face closed up, a conflicted look in her eyes, as if she couldn't reconcile with the fact that she was being shut down by the _illustrious_ daughter of Jacques Schnee.

"I think we are done for today," Jacques said tersely, breaking the silence. "Caroline, we will contact you again once we have discussed this matter further. Please express my good wishes to the General."

Cordovin got up and nodded, then waddled out of the conference room in silence. The other businessmen remained a moment, as if making sure it was okay to leave, before they followed her out, leaving Weiss alone with her father.

Jacques sighed heavily and got up from his chair. He looked at her and shook his head, joining his hands behind his back.

"I'm not happy with what you just did, daughter," he said.

"Good thing my job is not to make you happy, but rather to keep this company running well and responsibly," Weiss said. "Something that becomes that much harder when you insist on making unwise decisions despite my clear disapproval."

"Weiss, you have a sharp mind, and you have taken the SDC in great directions in the years since the incident with Torchwick," he said, approaching her. "But in this company, you are only my heiress, while I am its president. You don't have as much power here as you believe."

"You're not wrong. I'm not president, or even vice-president. My position in the company is rather nebulous, isn't it?" Weiss said. "What _won't_ be so nebulous, father, is how our board of investors will react when they learn of this Colossus project of yours. I am sure the prospect of the SDC being responsible for another world-threatening scare doesn't excite them a great deal, wouldn't you agree?"

He fell silent, and Weiss couldn't help but smile. Jacques' eyes turned to the ceiling, and he released another sigh, before he drew back the chair beside her and sat down. When he looked at her again, Weiss was startled – he seemed almost… _proud_ of her?

"I should have known better than to bring you into the business. Soon you'll have my whole company wrapped around your finger," he said. "Fine enough. I will drop this, for now. But know that I am not giving up on the Colossus."

"I suppose that's a good first step," Weiss said, waving her hand. "I'll allow you the chance to change my mind in the future. You won't, of course, but it's only fair that I let you try."

"The foundation behind the Colossus' construction is true, daughter," Jacques said. "The threat of the Grimm is escalating at a frightening pace, and we must use everything at our disposal to combat them. You might not agree with my chosen methods, but you must admit they're necessary."

"There is no need for such alarmism. I've said it already," Weiss said. "Whatever threats Atlas and the rest of the world might face in the future, myself and the Hunt will be there to stop them. We have done it once before, and we will do so again, as many times as we are called to do."

"And if you fail? If the threat is too large for even you and your allies to handle?"

"Then the world will be doomed already, and a big metal toy won't make any difference."

Jacques sat back, and Weiss didn't like the look on his face anymore. Gone was that maybe-pride, substituted by the businessman face she knew oh so well.

"You realize there are more ways for you to save the world than by flying around and chopping monsters' heads off?" he said.

Weiss crossed her arms. "Enlighten me."

"You are not wrong to worry about the unintended consequences the technologies we create might have upon the world. I believe when you apply yourself to those causes is when you truly shine, even more than when you're using your powers to fight the Grimm," Jacques said. "I've been thinking about creating a new position for you in the company, where you'll be tasked with handling exactly those delicate matters such as the Colossus, or…" He stopped himself. "How does the idea sound to you?"

"It sounds exactly like what I've already been doing this whole time, except I'd be pigeonholed to only that role." Weiss rolled her eyes. "Are you really that scared of my influence, father?"

"You misunderstand my intentions. In that role, you would have the final say on any and all endeavors the company may seek to take. Dislike something, and you'll have the power to shut it down absolutely and permanently."

Weiss pursed her lips. That did sound enticing, she had to admit. But it was too good to be true – her father would never allow her to have so much power over him, though he would surely try to keep such an illusion.

Besides, that was hardly her only concern with the idea.

"I'm perfectly happy where I am today," Weiss said. "But thank you for the offer."

"Well, if you change your mind, we can always revisit the idea," Jacques said. "If you won't agree to that, and you won't allow the Colossus solution to go through, perhaps then you'll finally share the formula of your Semblance Serum with the company?"

Weiss sat rigidly in her chair. She was suddenly aware of how cold she was. The Dust inside her was the cause of that. It was not an unpleasant sensation – in fact, it was something she rarely ever noticed, having grown used to it since her injection two years ago – but now it made her intensely aware of how valuable were the secrets her body held.

"You cannot be serious," she said lowly, fixing her father with a glare.

"I am perfectly serious," Jacques said. "With the formula, we could enable the creation of more warriors like you. Think of it – wouldn't the world be a safer place if it didn't have to rely on only you and your, what, _five_ superpowered friends to save it from disaster?"

"No, it absolutely would _not_ be! Giving people superpowers to use however they please? That's an even worse idea than the Colossus!" Weiss stood up. "I am not having this discussion. And I swear, if I hear even a whisper of you pursuing this, I will bring Beacon down on you and the SDC. I don't care what happens then, I'll destroy this whole company if I have to."

Jacques got up slowly, adjusting his collar with one hand, a contemptuous look on his face. "I suppose we have nothing more to discuss, then," he said coldly, and walked past her to exit the conference room.

* * *

Weiss shoved a file into a drawer and slammed it shut, cursing herself silently as the whole desk shook and a canister fell over, spilling pens all over it and the floor. Sighing, she bent down to pick up all the pens and put them back into place. If she continued like this, her office would devolve into an even bigger mess and she wouldn't be able to leave the SDC until nighttime.

Why was she in such a mood still, anyway? It wasn't like her father wasn't constantly testing her boundaries every day, seeking to take an inch wherever he could and running a mile with it. She couldn't control everything in his damned company, and if she tried to, he would take away her power – or try very hard to, at least – consequences be damned.

But this was different. Making alliances with shady businesses, developing increasingly dangerous weapons to _supposedly _fight the Grimm, even building a _giant death robot_… Those were all reprehensible actions, and Weiss would always fight against them.

But asking her to divulge the secrets of the formula that had awakened her powers? To then have it spread it across the world for profit? That was worse than anything Weiss could imagine.

And it was _personal_.

Weiss picked up the last pen and threw it on her desk. She looked around her office and despaired, realizing she had far more to fix up than she had thought at first. She prided herself in maintaining a clean and organized place of work, but she rarely stayed in her office for more than a few minutes at a time these days, only stopping by to pick up or drop things, and piles of miscellaneous items had started to form which she otherwise would have never allowed.

Weiss sighed, deciding to postpone the tidying up to tomorrow. She wouldn't be getting anything done in her current mood. What she needed was to go home, have a couple glasses of delectable wine, and then sleep for eight hours straight.

She picked up her purse and nodded to herself. That sounded like a plan… One that was being interrupted at its inception by a knock on her door.

Weiss rubbed the corners of her eyes for a moment before moving to the door. When she opened it, she was surprised to find Whitley standing patiently in her hallway – her little brother, younger than her by five years, with the same white hair that was signature to their family. More than herself and Winter, however, Whitley took after their father, not only in his physical appearance but in the manner he carried himself.

"Good evening, Weiss," he said, hands linked behind his back. "Are you busy?"

Weiss narrowed her eyes at him, then leaned past the doorway, searching the hallway for her father or one of his chief advisors. Whitley appeared unphased by that, as if he understood completely why she would do such a thing, even if he disapproved of it.

"You look particularly beautiful today, sister," he said, giving her a smile she knew all too well – the kind of insufferable smile the youngest child reserved for when they wanted to irritate their elders. "Have you done something to your hair?"

"What are you doing here?" Weiss asked, crossing her arms. "Did you get lost in the building? Do you need me to hold your hand and find an adult to drive you home?"

"But, you're already an adult, big sister," Whitley said. "Ah, but you don't know how to drive… How could I forget that?"

Weiss made to close the door, forgetting that she was on her way out of her office, but Whitley raised his hands to pacify her.

"Sorry. I'll get to the point," he said. "Father says I've gotten to the age when I should get more involved with the family business, and I agree. I've been shadowing him, learning about how the SDC works. The problem is, he can't devote that much time to teaching me. He's got more important things to tend to." He paused. "I was wondering, then, if you could make the time to teach me when he can't?"

"Teach you?" Weiss said. "You've been studying business and economy for years, Whitley, just like I did when I was your age. There's not much I can teach you that aren't already learning – and no, if your end goal is to get me to help you with your homework, I won't do it."

"But that's just knowledge I can get anywhere. What I need is experience – and you have a lot of that," Whitley said. "If I could watch how you conduct business, that would be enough. I promise I won't get in the way of your work."

Weiss pursed her lips. She supposed there was no one better than her to tutor Whitley about these matters. And Winter had done the same for her when they were younger – at least until she left the family business overnight and Weiss inherited her title in full.

Still, she was wary of the arrangement, especially with the last conversation she'd had with her father still fresh on her mind. Was he so brazen to send Whitley to her door so soon after, for her to train him to be her replacement?

"I'm sorry, Whitley, but I don't have the time. And I hardly have the inclination, either," Weiss said. "I'm afraid you'll have to tell father the bad news. I'm sure he can arrange someone else to help you."

"_Father_ didn't send me here," Whitley said heatedly. "I'm here of my own volition. I want to learn more, and I want to learn it from _you_. I know that you've been making an impact on the company. Father's even talked to me about it once or twice. He can get really irritated about it, but also…"

He trailed off, lowering his eyes to the floor.

"I don't want to disappoint him," he said bluntly. "Is it that much to ask that you help me out a bit?"

Weiss stared at him, suddenly regretful that she'd been so short with him. She certainly recognized how he felt, having felt the same way many times before. And while they might not have the most amicable of relationships, Weiss certainly didn't wish for him to go through the same hardships she'd had to endure.

Besides, with the right guidance, perhaps she could actually shape him into a good, conscientious businessman. Wipe away some of their father's influence and replace it with her own. Perhaps they could even become friendly with each other.

She could be a good sister. She _was_ going to be a good sister.

"Alright… But I have conditions," Weiss said. "You're going to listen to everything I say. No whining. If I hear one complaint, we're done. And I don't want to hear about how father would have done things – you're going to be learning from me, so you're going to leave his and anyone else's opinions on the doorway. Am I understood?"

"Perfectly," Whitley said. "…But are you always going to be this bossy?"

"Don't test me."

* * *

Weiss entered her apartment, sighing in relief as she felt the gentle warmth of the heating system on her skin. She took off her coat and hung it behind the door, and dropped off her keys beside it. Rolling her shoulders, she moved from the entry hall to the living room.

It was good to be home.

Moving out and getting an apartment all for herself had perhaps been the best decision she'd made recently. Gone were the days of staying confined in her room so as to avoid crossing paths with her father. Gone were the days of pretending the grass of the back garden wasn't littered with used bottles. Gone were the days of having every last second of her home life _monitored_ and _judged._

There was nothing quite as precious in the world as freedom, and if all she had to pay for it was some exorbitant amount of money she'd never have touched otherwise, then she would keep paying it until she was dead and gone.

Living by herself in such a large space did get a little lonely sometimes, but she didn't mind it much. And she knew better than to invite anyone here. Weiss could just picture how Yang might react when she stepped into her living room and realized it was double the size of the Tower's – she would never let Weiss hear the end of it. The dusty piano in the corner would also warrant a lot of requests Weiss would rather avoid.

She stared at the instrument for a moment, a longing building inside her. It had been a long time since she'd last played… But she was too tired tonight. Perhaps another time.

Weiss clapped her hands, turning on the lights, and walked over to the large white couch in the middle of the room. She grabbed her tablet from the table in front of it and sat down, leaning back a bit.

"Speak of the devil…" she muttered to herself, opening the Hunt's group chat to check if everyone was okay. She knew they would call her or text her on her Scroll if anything happened, but she still liked to make sure. Some of her teammates weren't the most sensible people.

Half of them, really.

Satisfied that there was nothing out of the ordinary, Weiss looked back over the couch at the counter on the corner of the room, and the cabinet behind it. _Now about that wine_…

She started to get up, but a ringing tone brought her attention back to the tablet and she sat down again. A call from Winter! Her face lit up, and she was quick to accept the call.

"_Weiss_." Winter's face popped up on the device. Weiss didn't know where she was, but she could make out the wall of what appeared to be a military quarter behind her. Winter was probably relaxing after a long day of work, just like her. "_Good evening_."

"Good evening, Winter!" Weiss said. "Where are you right now? Not in town, I'm guessing?"

"_Yes. I'm stationed in Argus currently, in Mistral_," Winter said. "_The General and I have business here. I'm afraid it might be a while before I return home._"

"That's too bad. I was hoping to see you soon. But I'm glad to hear from you anyway, it's been too long," Weiss said. "Did you have a reason for calling? Actually, wait a second, I'll be right back."

Weiss got up from the sofa and ducked behind the counter, opening the cabinet. She ducked slightly to get a better view inside, and grumbled in annoyance when she noticed it was empty save for two bottles, and not particularly good ones at that. She'd have to remember to make an order later.

She grabbed one of the bottles and opened it with a quick use of her Semblance, then poured herself a glass on the counter. Moving back to the couch, she sat down and settled in.

"Cheers," she said, raising her glass slightly and taking a sip.

Winter gave a momentary pause, and Weiss realized it might be strange for her to see her drinking.

"I'm sorry, do you mind if I…?" Weiss asked, nodding at the glass.

"_No, of course not. You're an adult_," Winter said, seemingly unperturbed. "_You asked why I called. Well, I heard about what happened today._"

"Can you be more specific? A lot's happened today."

"_The Grimm in the plaza. General Ironwood was informed straight away about it,_" Winter said. "_While I would like to give you some highly technical explanation for why that happened, I'm afraid human error is all there was to it. Regardless, the one responsible for the oversight has been thoroughly disciplined._"

"Hmm. And it won't happen again?" Weiss said.

"_Hopefully not. We were lucky you responded to the emergency so swiftly. General Ironwood asked me to thank you on his behalf._"

Weiss fought not to roll her eyes, but kept her displeasure to only that. She didn't have a high opinion on the General, but Winter was fiercely loyal to him, and Weiss respected her judgment at least.

"_You made it sound like that wasn't your only excitement today?_" Winter prodded.

"I wouldn't call any of today exciting," Weiss said. "Have you heard about the deal father's trying to close with the military?"

"_The Colossus? Yes, I've been briefed about it_." Winter nodded. "_It's highly confidential information._"

"Yes, from many parties!" Weiss took a sip of her wine to cool her anger. "What's your opinion on that… thing?"

"_I don't have much of an opinion about it. It's a weapon, and if we intend to aim at the Grimm, then I suppose it is an excellent weapon_." Winter looked away. "_Although I do find it a tad…_"

"Ridiculous? Overkill? Dangerous beyond a fault?" Weiss suggested.

"_Something along those lines. And now I know how _you_ feel about it._"

"It's the height of folly. Everyone is so concerned with _protecting mankind_, they fail to realize they might be the ones most likely to destroy it," Weiss said, and waved dismissively. "It doesn't matter. I've blocked the deal. Father told me he won't be dropping the idea anytime soon, and I'm sure your boss will be interjecting personally. They can fight for it all they want - I'm not letting that stupid robot see the light of day."

Winter smiled slightly, a look of vague amusement in her eyes. Weiss bristled a bit, feeling patronized for a brief moment, before she reasoned that Winter was only looking at her that way because she was fond of her, and no other reason. Winter was different from other people – Weiss hadn't had to prove herself to her for years now.

"_I commend your determination, sister. I would say that perhaps you are spreading yourself too thin, with everything you have going on in your life… You even make _me_ feel exhausted, just thinking about it_," Winter said. "_But if anyone can pull it off, it's you. Just promise to ask for help if you need it._"

"Okay. I'll remember that, Winter," Weiss said. "Do you have to go now?"

"_Yes. I've got an early start tomorrow. And every other day after that, I'm afraid,"_ Winter said. "_Take care of yourself, Weiss_."

"You too, Winter. Bye."

Winter gave her one last smile, and ended the call after.

Weiss put her tablet aside, disappointed that she couldn't have talked to her sister for longer. She hadn't gotten to tell Winter about her tutoring Whitley, and Weiss would have liked to hear her opinion on that. That would have to wait for another conversation.

Weiss downed the last of her wine and put her glass away, contemplating her day. She felt exhausted to the bone. Perhaps she _was_ starting to push the limits of how much she could handle. But who else was going to protect Atlas from the Grimm _and_ rein the SDC's worst tendencies _and_ keep her brother from becoming another of her father's obedient puppets?

No one. It all fell to her, and difficult as it might be to shoulder so much, she proudly accepted the challenge.

* * *

Weiss landed in front of the SDC early in the morning, feeling rested after a full night's sleep. She vanished her glyph and took her Scroll out of her pocket, lingering on the sidewalk as she considered her schedule for the day.

She had some projects to check out today, having last reviewed their progress nearly two weeks ago. And she intended to consult with the company's Vacuo branch – they were being awfully slow to cut their ties with certain individuals of less-than-stellar reputation, and if she didn't give them a push, they would stall even longer. Whitley would be accompanying her, of course, since none of that was particularly sensitive work. And depending how everything went, perhaps she could squeeze in a lesson or two for him.

Oh, and she had to finish tidying up her office. _Damnit_. Maybe she could put that off until tomorrow? Or, better yet, she could get Whitley to do it for her! She could pass that off as a lesson about… industriousness, or something like that. Surely he wouldn't be able to complain, since he'd agreed to-

"_Weiss Schnee!_"

Weiss winced and covered her ears, feeling like a bullet train had just sped past her. She noticed the people around her shrinking away in a similar state, and turned around for the source of the voice.

A young man, perhaps just a little older than her, had just stepped from the road into the sidewalk, striding towards her purposefully. He had dark skin and his eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, but Weiss could tell by the trace of his lips that he was seething with fury.

"What do you want?" Weiss snapped, tossing her purse to the ground and lifting her hands in front of her, conjuring a glyph in each. "Step back! Whoever you are, _trust me_, you don't want to mess with me."

"Funny." The man took off his fedora and dropped it behind him, stopping a good ten meters away from her. "That's exactly what I'm here for."

He opened his mouth, and out of it came a terrible noise, like a thousand bats shrieking at once. The air seemed to ripple in front of Weiss, but her eyes barely had time to register it as, suddenly, a great force struck her and she was launched backwards, crashing through the glass walls of the SDC.


	2. Deafened

Weiss hit the ground hard, sliding across the lobby until she collided against a marble pillar. She felt the dull ache of glass shards digging into her back, kept from penetrating her skin by the invisible layer of her Aura. For a moment, she could do nothing but lay there in a daze, that terrible sound having thrown off her senses so badly she was struggling to even see straight.

Somehow, she managed to roll over and push herself to her feet, her legs trembling under her. When she was fully stood up, a cutting pain exploded in her ears and head, nearly sending her to the ground again. With a clumsy gesture, she conjured a glyph on the floor beneath her, binding herself to it to keep herself from collapsing.

Weiss looked up at the entrance and saw her attacker step over the shattered panels and into the building. His sunglasses had cracked at the intensity of his own voice, and he threw them away, his sharp brown eyes adding to the anger he'd already shown.

He shouted something that Weiss couldn't comprehend over the ringing of her ears, and opened his mouth wide again. Weiss braced herself, covering her head with her arms, just in time for another shockwave to strike her. Her body rocked backwards violently, and for a moment she was scared the magnetizing power of her glyph wouldn't withstand the sheer force of the attack, but her feet slid just to the edge of it and anchored her in place.

Weiss lowered her arms to look at the man, struggling to take in air. _Semblance - soundwaves? - why's he attacking me? - doesn't matter, got to stop him_.

She flicked her wrists, materializing another set of glyphs on her hands, only for them to fade instantly as another spike of pain brought her down to her knees.

"Enjoying yourself, princess?" the man said, stopping in front of her. He looked down at her and smiled. "I know I am."

Weiss lunged at him, jumping off her glyph and connecting a punch to his jaw. His head jerked with the blow and he stumbled to the side slightly, but he appeared otherwise unphased.

"What do you want from me?" Weiss said, backing away while she nursed her aching knuckles.

The man rubbed his jaw for a moment, before he looked at her again. "Payback."

"I've done nothing to you, you lunatic!"

A shrill noise spread across the lobby, and a bullet hit the back of the man's head, bouncing off his Aura ineffectually. Weiss saw a pair of armed guards come into the lobby, pointing their pistols at the aggressor, but before she could warn them to run away, he turned and shouted in their direction. The soundwave didn't hit them directly, but rather shattered the floor in front of them and pelted them with the fragments. Cowed, the guards stumbled away

"My name's Flynt. Flynt Coal," the man said, looking at her again. "That ring any bells?"

"No. I've never even heard of you, and I think I was better off that way," Weiss said steely.

"Of course. Not like I expected anything else," he said. "But you're still complicit. And now I'm gonna give you what you deserve."

Before he could shout again, Weiss swung another punch, but he caught her wrist and spun her around, twisting her arm behind her back. Shrieking in pain, Weiss kicked at his leg, and he released her onto the floor.

She rolled on her back and started to push herself up. The next thing she knew, Flynt was standing over her, and her whole body was pressed to the floor by a continuous soundwave. She curled up and covered her ears with her hands, but it did nothing to protect her, the noise so deafening she couldn't even discern what it actually sounded like anymore. She felt her teeth chattering, her strength slipping away from her…

All of a sudden, the screaming stopped, and in its place reigned an absolute silence. Trembling, Weiss dared to open her eyes, and saw Flynt staring away from her, his mouth flapping angrily with no words coming out of it. None she could hear, anyway.

She followed the direction of his eyes and spotted her father and Whitley in the lobby, having just exited the elevator. Whitley was still, the shock of what he was seeing freezing him to the spot. Jacques, on the other hand, was backing away slowly, his face a mask of horrible panic. He hit his back against a wall and sidled away…

…leaving Whitley alone, right in the line of fire.

A new strength took hold of Weiss and, in the blink of an eye, she rose to her feet and threw herself at Flynt, striking his neck with her elbow. He staggered away, gasping and grasping his neck, but Weiss gave him no reprieve, following him and planting a knee on his stomach, stealing what little air he had left from his lungs.

She grabbed his arm and hurled him against a pillar, and stood firmly. Within her rose a deathly cold, the air crystalizing around her like in the beginnings of a hailstorm, and she shoved her hands forward. Waves of bright white energy discharged from her hands, washing over Flynt and enveloping him in a sheet of ice. He tried to shout, but his mouth was taken by the cold, and before he could break through, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he lost consciousness.

Weiss let up, dropping her hands to her waist and breathing heavily. She shuddered. Even her own breathing, she couldn't hear. How… irksome.

As she thought that, she started to hear again, the shouts of the people running her way – but like the tiniest of whispers. She felt a strange sensation in her ear, and brought a finger to it, then inspected it closely. The tip was coated in red.

Oh. That didn't bode well.

Suddenly, her vision turned hazy, and she fainted.

* * *

"The good news is, there doesn't appear to be any permanent damage," the doctor said, stepping away from Weiss. "You should count yourself fortunate, Miss Schnee. By all accounts, you should be deaf after the stress you were put through, and that's just the start of it. If you were anyone else…"

Weiss nodded grudgingly. The doctor made a good point, but if she were anyone else, she doubted she would have been assaulted by a maniac with the vocal cords of an oversized blue whale. But she wasn't in a mood to argue – not with him, at least.

"I'm going to prescribe you some medication," the doctor said, opening a cabinet and taking out two small boxes. He showed them to her. "This one's a simple pill for the pain, just take it with water whenever you feel it's too much. And this one's to facilitate the healing. You'll want to use it every night, two drops in each ear before sleeping. Do you need me to write down the instructions?"

Weiss shook her head. The doctor wrote out the prescription, then handed it to her along with the medicine. She stood up, and he walked with her to the door and opened it for her.

"I want you to come in next week for a follow-up, just to be safe," he said. "If the pain gets worse or you develop any complications before them, please do not hesitate to call. I'll make time to attend you immediately."

"Thank you, doctor," Weiss said. She tilted her head, unsettled by the sound of her voice – had it always been this high-pitched? Or was it not high-pitched enough?

She stepped out of the office, and the doctor smiled at her and wished her a swift recovery, then closed his door.

Weiss looked at her father. The sight of him sat on a waiting room, awaiting her, would have caused her great amusement, but it wasn't as if he was worried sick about her. No, he was juggling two cellphones instead, an expression on his face that told her he was at his wit's ends managing the morning's fallout. He didn't even notice that she'd left her consultation, not until she walked over to him and cleared her throat.

"Weiss. Excellent, you're finished," Jacques said. "Shall we go, then?"

"Yes." Weiss looked at him expectantly. "I'll be fine, by the way."

"Good. Good. Let's get you to the car," he said, and marched off without giving her a second look. Weiss rolled her eyes and followed him into an elevator.

He pressed the button for the first floor, then started typing away furiously, a cellphone in each hand. Weiss huffed loudly, trying to draw his attention.

"The man that attacked me," she said. "Where is he?"

"Gone from our sight," he replied. "Cordovin and her people took him into custody."

"I _know_ that. Where is he being kept?" Weiss asked.

"They're holding him in the city's military headquarters. I assume they'll be moving him to a more secure location soon, hopefully far away from Atlas." Jacques put his phones down, finally looking at her. "I would advise you not to go chasing after him. Let the authorities do their work."

"The _authorities_." Weiss scoffed. "That lunatic tried to kill me. He tried to kill you and Whitley, too. If you think I'm just gonna forget about him that easily, then you're sorely mistaken."

Jacques shook his head, seemingly accepting that arguing with her was fruitless. "Did he give a hint of his motivation?"

"He said I was complicit in something. And that his name was Flynt Coal," Weiss said. "Does that mean anything to you?"

For the briefest of instants, concern flashed across her father's face, before it vanished. If she hadn't been paying attention, she would have never noticed it. But she was sure he recognized the name.

"I haven't the slightest idea. I think, most likely, he is just a madman who happens to have dangerous powers," Jacques said. "Perhaps the fact that you're like him angers him."

"I'm nothing like him. And don't start putting the blame on _me_!" Weiss exclaimed, and winced painfully. She cupped her ear and sighed. "And you want to sell Semblances like energy drinks. Now you see why I'm so against that?"

He gave her no answer, returning his attention to his phones. They reached the first floor.

"Klein is waiting for you in front," Jacques said distractedly. "I assumed you'd be in no condition to fly home."

Weiss shook at her head. Of course he wasn't taking her home himself. She suspected the only reason he had drove her to the clinic in the first place was that there had been so many people watching. It wouldn't have been _proper_ to hand off his injured daughter for someone else to care for.

"Take the week off," he said. "We wouldn't want you to overwork yourself after what happened."

"We wouldn't," Weiss said. "Are you going to see Whitley now?"

"Your brother's fine. He's gone home for the day." He looked up at her. "Are you going soon?"

Weiss glared at him and stepped out of the elevator. He pushed the button for the parking lot, and the doors closed.

Weiss sighed. Well, that had been a rejuvenating conversation.

She walked out of the clinic and immediately spotted Klein waiting for her beside his car. She couldn't help but smile at the sight of him. Klein had been serving as her family's butler since before she was born, and he'd done more to raise her than her father had. Certainly more than her mother. Weiss hadn't seen him since she'd moved out, well over a year ago.

"Klein! It's so good to see you!" Weiss said, hugging him. "I've missed you so much!"

"Ah, no, Miss Schnee, it's me who's been missing you!" Klein said. "The manor's not been the same without you. Terribly dull all year long. And yet just as much work to keep tidy!"

Weiss laughed, and winced again. Klein held her hands, looking at her with concern.

"Such a terrible thing, what happened. What kind of villain would attack a sweet girl like you? He ought to pay for what he did in full," Klein said, anger coursing under his gentle tone.

"He will, Klein," Weiss said, giving him the most reassuring smile she could muster. "And _you know_ I am far from sweet. His mistake was thinking he could mess with me and not suffer a sound defeat!"

"Of that, there was never any doubt." Klein nodded. "But let's get you home, shall we?" He opened the car for her. "You need to rest in bed for the rest of the day. I'll brew you a tea, and you'll feel good as new."

"Actually, I was hoping you could drive me somewhere else first. There's something important I must do, and it can't wait."

Klein's eyes narrowed. "Miss Schnee, I don't like the sound of this…"

"But, you see, what I have to do will play a significant part in making that _terrible_ man pay for his crimes," Weiss said, linking her hands behind her back. "You wouldn't want to deny me of my justice, would you, Klein?"

"Hmm…" Klein's mustache twitched, and he crossed his arms. "You make a persuasive argument."

* * *

"I'm sorry, Miss Schnee. I'm afraid that's just not possible."

Weiss stared down at Caroline Cordovin, perplexed by the captain's response.

"What do you mean it's not possible?" she said. "That man almost killed me. _I _stopped him. I have a right to question him myself!"

"You have no such right, Miss Schnee," Cordovin said. "Flynt Coal is under military custody now. I cannot allow to come into contact with him."

Weiss curled her fists in frustration. She couldn't believe this. Well, she could – but she hadn't come all this way just to be turned away, and with such flimsy reasoning too.

"Have you learned anything from him yet, at least?" she asked.

Cordovin shrugged her shoulders apologetically. "That is not information I can share with you, Miss Schnee."

"So you haven't," Weiss said pointedly. "I can help you. He targeted me – me in particular - for a reason. If anyone's going to get anything out of him, it's going to be me. You and I can work together, or we can both stay in the dark. Your choice."

Cordovin turned away, looking conflicted.

"I wouldn't object to your helping us, Miss Schnee. In fact, nothing would make me happier than to work this case alongside you!" she said. "But my personal wishes have no bearing in this matter. You are to be kept as far away from Flynt Coal as our investigation will allow. That was a direct order from the Grand General!"

"Ironwood?" Weiss frowned. "Why would he do that?"

"Perhaps he believes you are too close to the matter. Having you involved with the procedures would open up a possible conflict of interests…" Cordovin said. "But I wouldn't presume to know the general's motives."

Weiss pursed her lips. A conflict of interests? She wasn't asking to be made lead investigator of the whole case, she only wanted a chance to talk to Coal while he wasn't trying to shout her brain out of her ears.

There was something more to this, she knew it.

"I can't see why you would want to talk to that ruffian anyway," Cordovin said, puffing up her chest with admiration. "A woman of your caliber has more important things to concern herself with than a lowly animal like him." She looked up at Weiss. "And I would venture to say you need some quiet time, after what you were put through, poor girl."

Weiss raised her chin. She had half the mind to lift Cordovin up by her arms and place her aside, clearing a path for her to march straight to the room Flynt was being held in. But she didn't want to make a scene.

That, and she was starting to find it difficult to think straight, the beginnings of a splitting headache creeping up on her.

"Fine," she said quietly. "But I'll be having a word with your general."

"Of course." Cordovin nodded and smiled at her. "Have a wonderful day, Miss Schnee!"

Weiss turned her back to the woman and walked away, groaning under her breath.

* * *

Weiss woke up in the middle of the night drenched in cold sweat.

She dragged herself up and leaned against the headboard, pulling back the matted hair on her forehead. The pain had returned – if it had ever gone away – drilling into her ears and down her spine, impossible to ignore. She leaned sideways and swiped blindly in the direction of her nightstand, until her fingers closed around the pills the doctor had prescribed her, and she got off the bed.

Weiss powered through the pain, walking out of her room and to the kitchen without bothering to turn on the lights. She took a glass and filled it with cold water, barely giving it a second before she tossed the pills in her mouth and gulped them down.

Relief didn't come immediately, but just the comfort of having taken the medicine gave her ease. She leaned on the sink for a moment, taking deep breaths, before she pushed herself off it and walked back to her room.

Weiss collapsed on her bed. The pain was fading, slowly but surely, but she was wide awake now. Falling back asleep was out of the question. Weiss wondered if this would only happen this once, or if she should get accustomed to waking up out of nowhere with a killer headache. Her Aura should help her heal faster, but the keyword there was _should_. Nothing about Semblances and Auras was certain.

Thinking about that, her mind wandered back to her assailant. Flynt Coal. Knowledge of Semblances was common nowadays, but that didn't mean the phenomenon itself was. She could count the number of people with a Semblance she knew with her fingers. Beacon probably knew a dozen or so more than her, probably, but what were the chances that such a person would attack her? Flynt Coal couldn't just _happen to have_ a Semblance.

Why had he attacked her? _Payback_, he had said. For what? She knew she hadn't done anything to him, so that could only mean that she was adjacent to the actual object of his anger. Who could that be?

One person immediately sprang to mind. Her father. There were plenty of reasons for someone to hate him, be it his personal wrongdoings or the company's or what both stood for. And the way he had reacted when she'd told him Flynt Coal's name, it could only mean he knew who that was.

But if Flynt did hate her father, why hadn't he attacked him directly? Had he hoped to get revenge on him by hurting her? If so, then Flynt had no idea what kind of person her father actually was.

Feeling a bitter taste in her mouth, Weiss sat up straight. She was not going to be falling asleep anytime soon, so she might as well make good use of her time. She opened a drawer on her nightstand, pulled out her laptop, and turned it on.

If her father knew Flynt Coal, it was likely he had some connection to the SDC. Perhaps he had been an employee once, or a relative of his, or he'd done business with them. Whatever the case, Weiss would be able to find out more on the company network-

_REMOTE SERVICES UNAVAILABLE AT THIS HOUR_.

Weiss stared at the screen, befuddled. Never in her life had she been blocked from accessing the network. Normal employees weren't allowed to access it off work hours, but she had special privileges. It was a necessity of her job to have unlimited access, no matter the place or hour.

Realization dawned on her, and she set her jaw in anger. This was no accident. Her father had sent her home for the day, probably thinking she would spend it quietly recovering. And while she did that, he'd made sure she wouldn't find out whatever he was hiding about Flynt.

Weiss closed her laptop and glared at the darkness of her room. This proved her suspicion that her father was somehow responsible for Flynt's anger. If she could only get to the bottom of this…

Her first thought was to call Winter and ask for her help, but Weiss remembered her talk with Cordovin, and how she'd been turned away. Ironwood had ordered her, _her specifically_, to be kept away from Flynt. Could the General be involved in this too?

If that was the case, calling Winter wasn't a good idea. Weiss would be putting her sister in a very uncomfortable position, one that might put her whole career at risk. No, Weiss had to keep Winter out of this, for now at least.

But then who else could she call for help? An arrogant voice in her mind told her she could very well do this alone, but Weiss knew better than to listen to it. She had her hands full with everything else in her life already, if she tried to take this on the same way, things would end badly.

Her need was simple. She needed to get information – information her father was locking away from her. She needed to get past his defenses without him realizing…

Weiss rubbed her eyes in dismay. Well, there was _one person_ she could recruit to help her… She just really, _really_ didn't want to resort to that…

* * *

"Put your left foot forward a little bit."

Jaune looked down dubiously and slid his foot forward a couple inches, putting more weight on his leg.

"Just a little more," Pyrrha said. "Perfect. Now let's do it again. And remember to keep your sword hand _above_ your waist."

Jaune did as instructed. He was holding his sword next to his side, with it pointed backwards, which was a rather awkward position to be in. He found the whole exercise odd, even after Pyrrha had explained its purpose. He wouldn't always be able to get a perfect grip on his weapon, she'd said, and in such a situation he might need to strike fast rather than strike elegantly.

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment to concentrate, then suddenly swung his sword, bringing it in a diagonal slash in front of him. When the motion was finished, he wobbled a bit on his feet, before he put the sword down.

"How was that?" he asked, looking at Pyrrha hopefully.

"You're getting better with every try," Pyrrha said, smiling at him.

Jaune sighed. "But I'm still doing something wrong."

"Well, yes. But you can't be expected to master the motion in a day."

"Can't I? It's just one move." Jaune looked at his sword, biting his tongue. "It's the waist thing that I can't figure out, I think."

"You're right. The principle of it is that you should be bending your elbow, so that when you slash, there is an explosive speed to it," Pyrrha said. "Does that help?"

Jaune lifted and lowered his arm, bending it this way and that, and made a couple tentative slashes, but still he couldn't get it just right. He felt like a penguin swinging a dead fish around. Except a penguin would probably make a better swordsman than him.

"Can I show you?" Pyrrha asked.

Jaune nodded, and she stepped close to him, taking his wrist and guiding it to a spot just above his waistline. She moved around him so she was at his back, and with a couple gentles taps on his arm, brought it into a less awkward bend.

There was silence for a few seconds, and Jaune thought Pyrrha might have finished, but then he felt her move even closer, almost pressing against his back. He felt her breath on his neck and was suddenly very aware that they were alone in the training room.

"Uh… Pyrrha…?" he said, trying very hard not to sound like a twelve-years-old boy.

"Sorry. I'm thinking," Pyrrha said, sounding completely casual. She took a few more seconds, then pressed his left shoulder, lowering it slightly. "There! Your shoulder's important too."

She moved away gracefully, coming to stand at his side with her hands behind her back and an encouraging smile on her lips. Jaune stared at her for a moment, then blinked and looked forward. He swallowed dry, and swung his sword again.

It escaped his grasp before he even got to the midway point of the motion. The blade flew across the training room and fell on the floor with a clatter that made them both hunch up their shoulders and cringe.

"Well," Jaune said, feeling his ears turn beet red. "That was a disaster."

"Don't… don't be discouraged!" Pyrrha said, keeping her smile despite it all. "I'm sure you could kill a Grimm if you hit him like that. It's a, a very ingenious move you've just invented, and all on your own, Jaune!"

Jaune rubbed the back of his head, smiling. He knew Pyrrha was just saying that to make him feel better, but… Well, she was doing a pretty good job of it. He still felt foolish and woefully inept, but at least Pyrrha hadn't given up on him yet.

"Do you want to stop for now?" Pyrrha asked.

"Yeah. It's getting a little late," Jaune said. "I don't wanna disturb the others with our noise."

Pyrrha nodded. "We can pick up where we left off tomorrow?"

"Yep. And I'll be picking up my sword right now, wouldn't want anyone to cut their toes on it," Jaune said. "Hey, would you look at that. My joke skills are almost as good as my sword skills."

Pyrrha giggled, and Jaune walked over to his fallen sword. As he picked it up and put it back into its scabbard, a low buzzing filled the room.

"Hey, Weiss."

His interest piqued, Jaune looked up at Pyrrha, who was answering her Scroll with a concerned expression on her face.

"We heard about what happened earlier," Pyrrha said. "Are you okay?"

She became silent then, just listening for two full minutes. If Jaune was interested before, now he was just dying to know what was going on. It took all his self-control not to ask Pyrrha what Weiss was talking about.

"I see. You've certainly got your hands full," Pyrrha finally spoke again. "It must be awfully late in Atlas, Weiss. Or early, I should say. Did you need my help with something?"

Pyrrha listened for a moment, her expression going from concerned to surprised.

"Oh. He's right here. Do you want me to pass the phone to him?"

She turned to look at Jaune, and he pointed at his own chest, bewildered. Pyrrha shrugged and handed him her Scroll, then moved to sit on a bench to give him some privacy – but not before giving a long look, as if wishing him luck.

"Hello?" Jaune said hesitantly, raising the Scroll to his ear. "It's me, Jaune Arc?"

"_I know who you are, you idiot!_" Weiss yelled. "_I've been calling your Scroll for ten minutes!_"

Jaune nearly dropped the phone, so startled he was by the volume of Weiss' voice. He put it back to his ear, keeping it a healthier distance this time.

"Uhm, I must have left it in my room, sorry. I just got done training with Pyrrha," Jaune said, frowning. "If you needed to talk to me so bad, you could have called someone else earlier, you know?"

"_I could have, but then they would know I am desperate enough to request your help specifically. Some people place great importance in their dignity, _Jaune_,_" Weiss said sharply.

Jaune perked up. "You're desperate? You need my help specifically?"

"_Of course _that _is what you'd take away_." He heard her mumble something he couldn't comprehend, before she spoke again. "_Yes. I'm in need of your particular expertise, if that's not too strong a word. You have experience infiltrating private information networks, correct?_"

"Uh… I haven't done anything like that since I left Beacon, but sure," Jaune said. "Why do you ask?"

"_I need to find out more about the man who attacked me, Flynt Coal. I'm certain my father knows something, but he's locked me out of the company's network. No doubt he'll be erasing whatever information he's hiding before I can get my hands on it,_" Weiss said. "_That's where you come in._"

Jaune blinked. "Weiss, are you asking me to hack the SDC?"

"_That's exactly what I'm asking you to do,_" Weiss said. "_Well? Can you?_"

Jaune put the Scroll down for a moment and looked at Pyrrha for support. She crossed one leg over the other, giving him a look like she wished she could help, before looking away politely.

"Not from here, I can't," he said. "Unless you want me to get found out immediately and get in a lot of legal trouble, probably thrown in jail, which might not sound that bad considering I have a truckload of Aura, but I think the damage would more emotional than anything, not to mention what something like that would do to the rest of the team, I mean could you imagine how-"

"_Yes, yes. What would you need in order to conduct the invasion safely, then?_" Weiss asked, interrupting him.

"I'd need to be close," Jaune said. "Like, inside-the-company close."

"_I can arrange that!_" Weiss said. "_How soon can you fly to Atlas?_"

"Woah, wait a minute, I didn't even agree to help you yet!"

They were both silent for a moment.

"…I can be there on Friday."

"_Excellent!_" Weiss said, sounding very pleased with herself. "_I'll be texting you my address. Bring all the equipment you need. And, Jaune – _do not _let this get your head._"

"O-okay!" Jaune said, but Weiss had already hung up.

Feeling like he'd just rode on a deadly rollercoaster without anything to hold him down, and somehow had come out of it alive, Jaune walked over to Pyrrha and handed her Scroll back to her.

"What was that about?" Pyrrha asked. "Weiss needs your help?"

"Yes," Jaune said slowly. "_Weiss Schnee_ needs _my _help." His lips parted in an ear-to-ear smile. "I always knew the day would come."

"You knew?" Pyrrha said, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Always, Pyrrha." He put his hands on his hips and puffed out his chest. "Always."


	3. A Schnee-Arc Adventure

Weiss bent her head sideways, bracing her neck with a hand. She could still hear a faint buzzing in her ear, but it was something she could ignore now, far from the persistent bother of the previous days.

She opened a window, letting fresh air into the living room, as well she the noises of the traffic below. She winced slightly, but refused to close the window. Either she got used to her condition, or she stayed locked inside her apartment for a whole other week, and it was imperative that she leave for the office today.

Weiss walked to the kitchen and grabbed herself a glass of water. Yes, today was a day of great importance, she thought. And it would likely be deeply aggravating also.

The doorbell rang, and Weiss put down her glass and rubbed her forehead.

Deeply, deeply aggravating, yes.

Weiss walked to the door and unlocked it, and after gathering her strength for a second or two, opened it. She was immediately greeted by a very content Jaune, if the smile on his face was anything to go by.

"Hello," Weiss said dourly, already regretting every decision that had led to this moment.

"Hello!" Jaune waved at her. He looked at her, then at his hand, and lowered it awkwardly. "…So how's it going, Weiss?"

"_It_ is going agreeably, so far," Weiss said. She opened the door a bit more. "Are you coming inside, or?"

The question seemed to halt Jaune's mental functions for a moment, as he stared at the doorway blankly, before he slowly stretched a leg over it and crossed into the apartment. He looked at Weiss, hunching his shoulders, like he expected her to grab him and throw him back out into the hallway.

"I see you brought your things," Weiss said, taking note of the comically large backpack he was carrying.

"Oh, yeah. I wasn't sure what I'd need for the… uh, operation, so I just brought everything that I thought might be useful," Jaune said. "Also I didn't know how long I'd have to stay in town, so I brought a bunch of clothes."

"And your sword," Weiss said skeptically. "You know when I asked you to hack the SDC, I didn't mean it in the physical sense?"

"Hey! You never know when a sharp weapon might come in hand. What if I need to defend myself from someone?" He looked at her warily, then seemed to notice what he'd said and cleared his throat. "_I mean_, what if there's a Grimm attack? You'd probably appreciate my help then!"

Weiss gave him her best impassive expression, then walked to the living room. Jaune followed her, releasing a silent gasp as he realized the size of the apartment.

"Wow. You could house, like, ten elephants in here," Jaune muttered. "Or just one _really big_ elephant."

Weiss turned her eyes to the ceiling. There was so much absurdity she could pluck from what he'd just said, but she chose to save herself the trouble and moved on as if she hadn't heard it.

"You can put your stuff there for now," she said, pointing at the couch. Jaune sat down, dropping his sword and backpack on the floor beside it. "So, let's get straight to business. How are we going to do this?"

"That depends on what exactly _this_ is," Jaune said, taking out a laptop and putting it on the table before the couch. "We gotta have all cards on the table before we move forward with this. So, what's our objective?"

"Well, I was attacked by a man named Flynt Coal," Weiss said, sitting down beside him. "I don't know why he did it, but I know my father has _some_ prior knowledge about him. So he probably has some relation with the SDC."

"So you're saying that there's probably some kind of information about him somewhere in the company network, except you can't find it," Jaune said.

"I can't. Whatever was there, my father probably had it deleted before I could get a look at it," Weiss said. "If that's the case, could you still recover it somehow?"

"Sure, unless he _really_ made sure it was gone. Which if he was in a hurry, he probably didn't do," Jaune said. "Alright. Then our objective is to hack into the SDC network and retrieve the information your father's hiding about Flynt Coal. Did I get that right?"

Weiss nodded. She had to admit, Jaune sounded like he _actually_ knew what he was doing, and not like he was just scraping by like he usually did. Perhaps he had really retained the training he'd received from Beacon, if only in that area of expertise.

"You said you'd need to be inside the SDC to do this," Weiss said. "Is that still true?"

"Yeah. I mean, I could try and infiltrate the network from here, but then it'd be really obvious," Jaune said. "But that doesn't mean I gotta do all the work there. I just need to establish a secure connection, and then I'll have free reign from anywhere."

"Good. And you're ready to start today?" Weiss asked.

"Hey, I'm ready when you are. It's your mission, baby!"

He put his feet up on the table and smiled at her. Seeing the displeasure on her face, he cleared his throat and sat up straight again, pretending to type something important on his laptop.

"I'm coming back to work today, so this gives us a window to execute the plan. We'll have to be cautious, though," Weiss said, standing up. She stared at him dubiously. "Can I trust you to be cautious, Jaune?"

"Are you kidding me? Cautious Jaune was my kindergarten nickname," Jaune said. "Well, one of my nicknames." He frowned. "Little kids can be really mean."

Weiss sighed. He was going to be a handful.

"Let's get going, then. I've got to get there by eleven," Weiss said. "Oh, and Jaune. If you call me baby or anything of the sort ever again, I will send you back to Vale in a box. Understood?"

Jaune gulped. "Yes, ma'am." He meekly raised his hand. "A high five for a Schnee-Arc adventure?"

Weiss glared at him, entirely unimpressed, and walked past to get her coat.

* * *

"I'm assuming you're gonna need a company computer to connect to?" Weiss asked as they stepped into the elevator.

"Yep," Jaune said. "Any terminal would do, really. But it should be somewhere where I won't be interrupted."

"My office it'll be, then."

Weiss pressed the button for the tenth floor, then retreated to the back of the elevator. They'd come into the building through the employee's parking lot instead of the main entrance. If people saw Weiss coming in with Jaune Arc, former agent of Beacon, and word got to her father, then their whole operation would be for naught.

"So what is it you do around here?" Jaune said. "Do you still do science-y stuff, like-" He mimed taking a syringe and sticking it into his arm, then fainting. "Or is that not a thing anymore?"

"I'm afraid I'm in more of supervisory position these days. You know, keeping the company afloat, stopping people from making stupid, unconscionable decisions," Weiss said. "Also, need I remind you that it was _you_ who stuck a needle in me and almost killed me?"

"Hey, that was another time, another Schnee-Arc adventure." Jaune glanced at her sideways. "And you're the one who made the serum, so who gets most of the blame there, really?"

Weiss fixed him with a hard stare, and he turned his eyes to the ceiling, whistling innocently.

They reached their floor, and Weiss exited the elevator, gesturing for Jaune to follow her quickly. Luckily, there weren't any people out of their offices at this hour, so they reached hers without incident.

"You can get started," Weiss said, closing the door behind her. "We should be okay in here."

Jaune sat down in front of her computer and turned it on. "What's your password?"

Weiss walked to his side, silent but clearly displeased.

"What, you're asking me to hack into your company, but you won't trust me with your work password?" Jaune said.

Weiss sighed. "_Mirror mirror_. No space, no capitalization."

"Cool! That's that single you released when you were fifteen or something, right? Ruby plays it all the - you know what I'm just gonna focus on the important business."

Jaune opened his backpack and started rummaging through it while the computer finished booting up.

Weiss' scroll buzzed in the pocket of her coat, and she took it out to see Whitley had just sent her a text message.

"Shoot." She exhaled. "I forgot I'm supposed to be showing my brother around the company today."

"Do you have to leave?" Jaune asked.

"Not yet. He's just left home," Weiss said. "How long will it take for you to do your thing?"

"I don't know. Depends how tough the security is here – I'm assuming very," Jaune said. "Maybe an hour?"

"That should be enough time before he gets here," Weiss said. "I hope you're not boasting."

"I never falsely boast to a lady," Jaune said. "Unless it's about anything except this stuff."

He gestured to the computer, then took a thumb drive from his backpack and plugged it in.

"That's it? That's the amazing hacking skills you're so proud of?" Weiss said dryly. "Just plug something in, and…?"

"What? No way. This is just something to help me along," Jaune said. "It's a device Beacon invented. It should get me an overview of the network's security framework. Actually I'm not even sure I should still have this thing, but no one's come to arrest me yet, so…" He twisted his fingers in a good luck gesture. "Here's hoping that doesn't change!"

They waited until a window popped up in the computer screen, filled with text Weiss couldn't hope to decipher the meaning of. She might as well be trying to read a book in a foreign language.

"There it is," Jaune said, slapping his thigh excitedly. "That's Beacon tech for you, baby!" He turned to her and raised his hands. "And to clarify, I was not referring to you as _baby_, I was merely making a generic statement of victory – like _hurray! _or _eureka! _All clear?"

"I think you should focus on your work, Jaune," Weiss said, crossing her arms.

"Right-o. Work, work, work so you stay out of the box," Jaune muttered to himself, turning to look at the screen. "This shouldn't be too complicated. I just need to work around the company's security to plant a little bug, which should allow me to access the network from my laptop without anyone ever knowing about it."

"Now _that_ sounds like something worth crossing an ocean to do in person," Weiss said. "Will you require anything-"

Her Scroll buzzed again, and she picked it back up, prepare to shoot Whitley an incensed message telling to be patient.

"Damnit," she grumbled.

"What now?" Jaune asked, not looking at her.

"It's company business. I swear, I don't know how this place didn't go up in the air in the three days I was gone," Weiss said. "Look, I have to go talk to some people. Will you be okay on your own?"

"Uh, sure," Jaune said, shrugging. "You'd probably get bored watching me anyway."

"Okay. I'll be back soon. Don't try to leave without me," Weiss said, heading to the door. "And _don't_ touch anything."

Jaune pouted. "But you have so many cool pens…"

"I _will _know, Arc." Weiss pointed at him warningly as she slowly walked backwards out of the office. "Do not test me."

* * *

Jaune dragged his chair back and leaned back, blowing air out of one nostril while pressing the other one shut. To say he was bored would be an understatement.

He had finished the job in roughly fifteen minutes, much earlier than the estimate he'd given Weiss. He might have undersold himself on purpose to later impress her, but that would have required him to actually be confident in his own abilities. Truthfully, he hadn't been sure he could pull the hack off successfully, even in one whole hour, so he'd taken the famous policy of better-safe-than-sorry.

Except he was definitely sorry now. Even if Weiss would be impressed by him, she was gone now, and though she'd said she would be back soon, he doubted the veracity of that statement. Not that he thought she was a liar, but Weiss seemed like a busy person – the type of executive that went to take care of one thing and was waylaid by a dozen others on the way there and back.

Jaune looked at the door longingly. Would she _really_ mind if he left the building before she was back? It wasn't like he needed her to take him by the hand back to the apartment. He used to be a spy – sort of – for Pete's sake, he could sneak out of a building on his own without being noticed!

But could he, really? All it would take for him to be caught was one blunder, and Jaune blundered frequently. He might not face any immediate repercussions, but that would throw Weiss' entire investigation in the trash. Not only would she be furious with him, Jaune would feel properly humiliated all on his own.

He sank into the chair, gulping audibly. Yeah, better stay for an hour or two or eight – just until Weiss came back for him.

As luck would have it, it didn't take nearly that long for him to be saved. There was a knock on the door, and Jaune jumped to his feet eagerly. He'd already turned off the computer and gathered all his tools, so he picked up his backpack and opened the door, ready to leave.

Except it wasn't Weiss standing in the hallway, but a boy just about her height, with short hair of the same pale color as hers. Jaune stared at him in shock for some time, before it dawned on him who he was looking at – Whitley Schnee, Weiss' younger brother.

"Uh," Jaune said awkwardly. "Hello."

Whitley looked him up and down, an expression on his face like he'd just crossed upon a wet rat on the street. "Who are you? And what are you doing in my sister's room?"

Jaune looked at the door. Maybe if he closed it really, really slowly, without making a noise, Whitley would forget he was there.

"I'm just… You know…" he said slowly. "Hanging out."

Whitley looked at him incredulously. Yep, he was definitely related to Weiss!

"You have one minute to explain yourself before I call security."

"Well, you see, I have a perfectly legitimate reason for being here," Jaune said. He took his backpack and shook it lightly. He knew the one infallible tactic for distracting a younger sibling, having resorted to it many times during his teenage years. "Do you like candy?"

Whitley stared at him blankly for a moment, then took out his phone and started to call a number.

Before he could finish, a pair of footsteps came down the hallway, closing in on them.

"Whitley!" Weiss came to a halt beside her brother, looking like she'd just been moving at a full-sprint – in high heels, which Jaune had learned from his teammates was supposed to be a rather impressive feat. "I told you to meet me in the lobby! Why won't you ever listen to me?"

"I thought I'd save you the trouble," Whitley said. He gestured at Jaune scornfully. "I found this idiot in your office."

Weiss looked at Jaune, and he waved at her awkwardly. Her eyes narrowed just slightly, but aside from that, she showed no emotion – though he could tell she was fuming with anger.

"I was about to call security on him," Whitley said.

"Whitley! There's no need for that," Weiss said. She moved to Jaune's side and put a hand on his arm. "I told Jaune he could wait here while I attended to some things."

"So you know this buffoon?" Whitley frowned, and he added under his breath, "He offered me candy, like I'm some gullible child."

"Yes, Jaune's my teammate. He… likes to joke around like that," Weiss said. "Right, Jaune? You're such a _clown_, aren't you?"

"Yes! The biggest clown!" Jaune agreed eagerly.

Whitley looked at him and Weiss, not yet convinced. "What's he doing here, then? In the company?"

"I told Jaune about how I was attacked, and he came to see if I was okay," Weiss said, fixing Jaune with a stare that said _just play along_. "I told him that wasn't necessary, but he insisted. And here he is now!"

"Yeah! I mean, I couldn't just not come to see Weiss after what happened!" Jaune said. "What kinda friend would I be if I just, you know, trusted her on her word?"

"Uh-huh." Whitley crossed his arms. "And where are your other teammates? Didn't they come to see you too?"

"Oh, they didn't have the time… But I'm not holding a grudge." Weiss conjured up a smile and elbowed Jaune lightly. "I'm not as close with them as I am with Jaune anyway!"

She forced a laugh, and Jaune did his best to follow her lead, nodding his head up and down repeatedly.

"Okay, I get it." Whitley rolled his eyes. "You're involved."

Jaune's gasped, but that was nothing compared to the shriek that came out of Weiss' mouth. She jumped away from him and gestured angrily at Whitley, who appeared delighted for all the wrong reasons.

"That is _not_ what I said," Weiss hissed. "Jaune and I are _teammates_. We're barely even friends."

"You're contradicting yourself now, sister," Whitley said. "What does it matter anyway? You got yourself a boyfriend, _somehow_. Your standards might be drastically low, so what? Are you afraid father is going to find out?"

Weiss hunched her shoulders and glared at Whitley. "Father _will not_ be hearing about this, Whitley."

"Oh, he will be, I assure you." Whitley chuckled. "Also, you just admitted I'm right."

"I did not-" Weiss stopped talking, and took a deep breath. "Fine. Jaune and I, we're dating. Ha-ha, you're such a clever boy for figuring that out. Can we move on now?"

If Jaune's eyes could pop off its sockets, they would already be on the floor. As it was, all he could was stare wide-eyed at Weiss. He was pretty sure he could feel the neurons in his brain going into overdrive and dying off in a mass panic.

"I'll ignore that you're such an insufferable brat and tutor you anyway, Whitley, because I, unlike you, am an adult," Weiss said. "But first, let me have a moment with Jaune here, okay?"

Whitley stared at Jaune dubiously for a moment, then shrugged and walked away to a respectable distance. Weiss watched him with eagle-like eyes, and as soon as his attention was away from them, she whirled around and raised a finger at Jaune.

"_Do not_," she said, and he felt like she'd seized him with her voice only and dunked him in arctic water. "Do you understand? _Do not_."

Jaune gulped. "I t-think so?"

"You better. This is a lie of usefulness and nothing more," Weiss said. "As long as my family thinks we're dating-" Her face twisted like she'd just swallowed a fly. "- there won't be any suspicion about why you're in town. We can use that to our advantage."

"Sounds good," Jaune said. "A-and I mean that in a completely, _completely_ innocent way!"

She kicked him in the shin, then looked back at Whitley and smiled at him.

"Did you finish what you needed to do?" she asked Jaune.

"Yup. All good," Jaune said. "All good, yup, all good."

"Numskull. Meet me back in the apartment. And try not to fall into a manhole on the way there."

Weiss stared at him steely for a moment, then slowly raised herself to the tips of her toes and planted a kiss on his cheek. She gave him the slightest glare, then marched off, grabbing Whitley by the arm and dragging him into an elevator.

Jaune was left alone in the hallway, and as he stood there, frozen, a single absolute truth came to him.

"I'm already dead."

* * *

"And that should do for a tour of the building," Weiss said. "Any questions?"

She turned around to look at her brother. Whitley was quiet, a pensive expression on his face. She figured he was trying to process everything she'd shown him in the past – how long had been at this, six hours? It was a futile act, if an understandable one. It had taken Weiss months to get a good grasp on the SDC's inner workings, and she still found herself disoriented from time to time. That Whitley would struggle like this was only expected.

"No questions, at least for now," Whitley said. "You've given me a lot to think about, sister. I'll have to get everything in order first."

"Of course. Take your time," Weiss said, holding back a yawn. "As you've surely realized, I am _always_ at disposal."

They had ended the tour on the thirteenth floor, by no deliberate choice or logic. If the day had gone according to Weiss' plans, she would have shown Whitley around in a simple, orderly fashion, from the first floor to the last. Things obviously hadn't worked out that way.

At least she had a good view of the city from here. The sun was setting on the horizon, and Weiss sat down at a table near the windows to watch it go down. Being in full view of the employees kept her from slouching. Even so, Weiss couldn't help but brace an elbow on the table and rest her head against her hand.

"You look tired," Whitley said, sitting down opposite her.

"Yes, please do state the obvious, Whitley," Weiss said.

"Well, you _do_," Whitley said. He pursed his lips, peering at her like she was a puzzle to be solved. "Is it this how all your days go? You go around fixing other people's problems?"

"More or less," Weiss said. "Today was a little on the rougher end of things, though."

"But… that can't be what you _actually _do," Whitley said, perplexed. "Can't people fix their own problems? I was led to believe the reason we hire them is because they're intelligent. They shouldn't need you to intervene on every little thing!"

Weiss rubbed her temples. And there it was, the frustration. She'd felt that way for some time too.

"Please exercise some respect for our employees, Whitley," Weiss said. "They are hard-working people, and I don't think they would appreciate hearing you putting them down when you know so little about what they do. _I_ certainly don't."

"Right. My apologies," Whitley said. He looked around for a moment, before he faced her again, and crossed his arms. "Still."

"_Still_, you fail to understand. But allow me to explain," Weiss said. "You are right that we only hire the most intelligent of candidates. But intelligence has nothing to do with a person's ability to make significant decisions – decisions with ramifications far beyond themselves. And that's where I come in, to take those decisions out of their hands."

"…Because you're smarter than them?" Whitley said dubiously.

"No, you doofus! Aren't you paying attention?" Weiss groaned. "I _am_ smart, but more importantly, I know our company's values, and how to best uphold them."

"And what _are_ these values?"

"Progress and responsibility, mainly. We used to be all about the former, of course, and the latter was entirely forgotten, except for when it was convenient to bring it up," Weiss said. "But, that's not the case anymore. I am seeing to that personally. The two go hand in hand, you see, progress and responsibility. You can't have one without the other."

"I… don't think I understand what you're trying to say," Whitley said.

Weiss sighed. She was really tired.

"It's a whole thing, Whitley. It's not easy to explain," Weiss said. "Here's what we'll do. Next time we do this, I'll present you with one of these pesky problems that are always brought to my attention. Maybe then you'll begin to understand."

Whitley nodded. Weiss took out her Scroll and cast a look at it under the table. No word from Jaune except that he'd arrived back at the apartment. That was probably a good thing.

Also, no Grimm to hunt down.

"Do you actually enjoy your work here?"

Weiss looked up, surprised. "Excuse me?"

"I asked if you enjoy working here," Whitley said.

"Ah. Yes, I do, of course I do." Weiss frowned. "In a way. It's never easy, and there are days I want to tear my hair out, but I wouldn't be doing it if I didn't find it fulfilling."

Whitley stared at her for a moment, then shrugged. "If you say so."

Weiss grit her teeth, resisting the urge to reach over the table and shake the brat by his collar. Who did he think he was, questioning her motivation?

"I do say so," Weiss said firmly, and stood up. "I'm going home now. I'll try to fit you in for another day next week. Hopefully it won't be quite as hectic as today."

She'd barely finished her sentence when a woman with a clipboard approached her.

"Excuse me, Miss Schnee?" she said delicately. "I've been trying to track you down for a while now. I'm from the fifth floor? There are a couple things I need you to sign on, if it's not much trouble? It won't take a minute!"

Weiss tried her best not to seem resentful, which was especially hard knowing Whitley was grinning behind her. "Of course. It's my plea-"

She glanced at the clipboard, and her eyes crossed at the enormous list of items waiting for her analysis and approval. Weiss sighed.

"Walk with me, won't you?"

* * *

Weiss rested against the door, the noise of the lock clicking sending a wave of relief across her body. She let herself stay there for a moment, basking in the silent peace, before she pushed herself off and walked to the living room.

It was dark, curiously enough, and for a moment she was haunted by the thought that Jaune had fallen in a manhole on the way to the apartment, after all. But then she saw a light near the sofa, and noticed him sitting on it, typing away at his laptop in an almost trance-like state.

She stared at him for a while, waiting for him to notice she'd arrived. When almost a minute had passed and he still had no clue, she gave up and clapped her hands unceremoniously. The lights came on, and Jaune jumped where he sat, looking around wildly before he realized she was standing there.

"Someone's hard at work," Weiss said.

Jaune rubbed the back of his neck and moved his computer from his lap to the table before him. With the lights now on, Weiss realized there was also a notebook on the table, open on a page filled with text almost from top to bottom.

"This has turned out a little more complicated than I thought," Jaune said, sounding apologetic.

"Complicated how?" Weiss said. She walked over and picked up the notebook, giving it a quick read-through before she looked down at Jaune again. "Did something go wrong back in the SDC?"

"No, nothing like that. Everything's working according to plan – I can access the network from here just fine, and no one's the wiser to it," Jaune said. "What's complicated is actually finding the information."

Weiss put down the notebook. She couldn't make out Jaune's handwriting anyway. "How so?"

"Well, I'm running a program to search the whole SDC database for any mention of a Flynt Coal or anything close. Except there's _a lot _of stuff to go through – years and years of all sorts of documentation," Jaune said. "On top of that, since what we're looking for has probably been deleted, I'm also having the program recover any possible data. That's, like, _fivetupling_ the search time." He took a deep breath. "Also, the guy's name is freakin' _Coal_. You know how much stuff related to coal there is in the SDC database? Surprisingly a lot!"

He turned his eyes to the ceiling, and Weiss thought he might topple over and slip off the sofa, so exhausted he looked. She could relate.

"Perhaps there's a way to narrow down the search? Cut out the obviously unimportant matches?" Weiss suggested.

"That's what I've been working at," Jaune said, gesturing at his notebook. "But there's only so much I can do. I don't wanna mess with the program too much and risk missing the info we want."

"That would be disappointing." Weiss nodded. "I suppose we have no choice but to wait for your program runs its course, then."

Jaune pouted. "_I guess_. But that might take days." He shook his head, and leaned forward to type on his laptop again.

Weiss sat down on the sofa. She watched Jaune work in silence, feeling an odd sense of unrest. She had expected to come home and for him to act insufferably after their encounter with Whitley, but he was being nothing but respectful instead.

"Jaune?" Weiss said, clearing her throat lightly. "Thank you… For coming all the way here to help me. It means a lot. Especially since I haven't given you much reason to put up with me… Just the contrary, in fact."

"Well." Jaune turned to look at her. "This is obviously very important to you, so…" He shrugged and began typing again. "That's reason enough for me."

"You're not doing all this to impress me?" Weiss said, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Uh… Not any more than usual, no," Jaune said. "Is that a problem? Should I be trying to flex my muscles in front of you or something?"

Weiss rolled her eyes. "Like you have muscles worth showing off." She looked at him suspiciously. "You're really not, though?"

"Weiss, I'm helping you because you asked me and we're friends. Is that so hard to believe?"

Weiss leaned back on the sofa, rubbing her arms.

"No, I suppose it shouldn't be," she said. "It's just that… I've lived all my life with people putting on airs around me, trying to appear bigger than they actually are. All to try and impress me, like I'm some sort of prize to be won."

"You make yourself sound like an old-timey princess," Jaune said, snickering. "What, are people competing for your hand in marriage or something? The keys to the kingdom and all that jazz?"

"That's not _funny_, Jaune," Weiss said coldly. "It's what happened with my mother."

Jaune stopped typing, his fingers becoming still on the keyboard, and he looked away.

"Sorry," he said quietly.

"It's alright," Weiss said, sighing. "You didn't know."

"And now I do, so I can't be excused anymore." Jaune turned to look at her. "Is that why you've always been so… you know, hard on me? 'Cause you thought I was like those people?"

"That is an astute analysis," Weiss said, crossing her arms. "Yes, you're right. But maybe I was wrong to think of you like that."

Jaune smiled at her, and she raised a finger towards him.

"Mind you, you're not in the clear yet," Weiss said. "But I am willing to admit you're not as much of an idiot as I once thought."

"That's a start!" Jaune said. "And hey, you're already my fake girlfriend, so…"

He trailed off, and Weiss watched him sit up straight all of a sudden, his arms and neck becoming stiff, like a chill had passed through him. She frowned in confusion – she hadn't even snapped at him or anything, yet? – and he got up and started to gather his things on the table.

"I should probably get going," Jaune said. "It's getting late, and I need to book a hotel room. I'll get back to work on this in the morning, maybe I can figure out something-"

"Wait a minute, a hotel room?" Weiss stood up. "Forget about that. I've got a guest room you can use."

Jaune blinked. "Are you sure about that? I don't wanna be a bother."

"I asked you to fly to Atlas fully expecting you to be a bother," Weiss said. "You can stay here, provided that you be a respectful guest. Can you do that?"

"…Sure," Jaune said. "You haven't heard any complaints about me from the team, have you?"

Weiss shrugged. She had heard a complaint or two from Pyrrha, but those were due to how oblivious he was, but she doubted mentioning them to Jaune would help him any.

"I would help you work out your problem, but," Weiss said. "I've had a long day. I could sleep forever. But first, I need to eat something."

"Ooh, I'm famished too!" Jaune said. "Do you have anything in the kitchen? I could make something for us – Yang's been teaching me how to cook." He bowed his head. "Trying to, anyway."

"I'm afraid not," Weiss said. "I don't cook. Usually I order something, or go out to eat."

Jaune jumped eagerly. "Weiss! We could order burgers! Burgers from Atlas are supposed to be, like, the best burgers anywhere, aren't they?"

Weiss grimaced. "Burgers? I don't know where you heard that." She sighed. "But _you're_ the guest."

"And you're the best host ever!" Jaune said. "See, this has been a great start for our Schnee-Arc adventure. First we infiltrate a shady corporation and get away with it, then we have some meaningful conversation, and we top it all off with a delicious victory meal." He raised a hand. "High-five?"

Weiss looked at him crossly. "I'm already housing you, and I've agreed to eat your filthy food. What more do you expect of me?"

Jaune remained unflinching, his hand slowly approaching her. Shaking her head, Weiss relented and gave him his high-five.


	4. Like Father

Weiss stepped off the elevator. She shook her head slightly as she gave a cursory glance to her tablet, and the spreadsheet displayed on its screen. For most people, it might have appeared as a perfectly inoffensive business chart, but she could tell something was off about it. Excessive funding given to sectors that did not need it, diverted from sectors that did – vast changes with little to no registry of who had authorized it – and on top of all that, she knew there was money yet unaccounted for.

She wanted answers, and she was going to get them.

She entered her father's waiting room and made for the door to his office, stopping only when his secretary looked up from behind her counter and gestured to her. "My apologies, Miss Schnee. Your father is busy with someone else at the moment."

"Is that so?" Weiss said. "Who, exactly?"

The secretary glanced at her computer, before she faced Weiss again, with a look as if she was unsure she should be sharing that information. But a simple long look and a crossing of arms from Weiss quickly changed her tune.

"Caroline Cordovin, Miss," the secretary said. "He said he didn't want to be disturbed."

"Did he, now? Well, he must already be plenty disturbed talking to that woman," Weiss said dismissively. "Thank you for your assistance."

She pushed open the door, much to the secretary's frantic protesting, and walked in. Her father was seated behind his desk with Cordovin opposite him, and they were engaged in a lively conversation – which died as soon as Weiss made her appearance.

"Well?" Weiss raised an eyebrow. "Don't let me interrupt this lovely chat."

"Weiss. What are you doing here?" Jacques said, folding his hands on his desk. "As you can see, I have a guest."

"I _can _see," Weiss said, sitting in the chair beside Cordovin. "My apologies. If I'd known you'd be making a visit today, Captain, I would have come sooner. We can't have a productive conversation about the Colossus without me present in the room, after all." She smiled at the old captain. "By the way, did you pass along my message to the General?"

"Not yet, Miss Schnee," Cordovin said, smiling back at her. "The general is much too busy with other matters to come have a discussion with you, I'm afraid."

Weiss clucked her tongue. "That's too bad. I suppose we won't be seeing any giant robots be built for quite some time, then."

"That is indeed too bad," Cordovin said, her smile fading. She shook her head desolately and sunk in her chair. "My beautiful Colossus… One day you will see the light of day..."

Weiss shared a look with her father, and for a strange moment she had a common feeling of recognition with him. Difficult as he might be, she had to admire how he was willing to put up with eccentric creatures such as Cordovin to get what he wanted.

Jacques pulled his chair back and stood up. "Captain Cordovin was just on her way out, actually. We cannot keep her here all day, much as I'd like that."

"Jacques Schnee, you sly devil, you flatter me too much!" Cordovin slapped her thigh. "I'll get out of your hair. It was a pleasure talking to you, Miss Schnee, brief as it was!"

She smiled at Weiss, then walked out of the office. As soon as the door closed behind her, Weiss whipped around to face her father, raising an eyebrow.

"I know what you're thinking," Jacques said, sitting back down. "No, we were not discussing the Colossus behind your back. The project might have come up by association, but we were talking about something else altogether."

"And I should believe you because…?" Weiss said.

"Because I am your father and you should listen to what I say? At least that's how you used to behave, before you…" He gestured at her, disgruntled. "You'll have to take me at my word."

"Perhaps if you tell me what it is that you were talking about with Cordovin that she had to come personally to your office, then I will," Weiss said.

Jacques stared at her for a moment, appearing quite unhappy that she was still there, before he released a deep breath and leaned forward.

"I suppose I'll have to tell you. You won't let this go unless I do, and I've long tired of diverting my time to placate your rebellious tendencies," he said. "I requested she come to my office so we could talk about the man who attacked you."

"Flynt Coal," Weiss said, her interest peaking, though she tried not to show it. "What did you talk about?"

"I know nothing about the man except that he tried to kill you, my daughter and heiress, the face of the SDC, under my very roof," Jacques said. "Personally, I couldn't care less why. He is insignificant to me, and I would see him locked away for life immediately. But as long as his motivations remain a mystery, he presents a threat to you and me and the company, and so we must find out everything we can about this Flynt Coal."

"And that's why you asked Cordovin to come," Weiss said. "To offer your assistance with her investigation?"

"No," Jacques said gravely. "To inform her that, until she sees this unsavory business finished, the Colossus she so desperately wants won't see the light of day."

Weiss sat in silence, processing the new information carefully. She understood what he was actually saying – he was intimidating Cordovin, hurrying her to finish the matter with Flynt Coal so he would go away faster. For the good of them and the company, he said, and she was sure that was true in part – and she was even surer that there was something more behind it.

A part of her wanted to forget caution and ask him what it was that he knew about Flynt Coal, but her more sensible side won out. If she wanted to figure out everything properly, then she needed to remain patient.

"I see," Weiss said. "Good. The sooner he's taken care of, the better. I would question the rapscallion myself, but Ironwood seems bent on keeping him out of my reach."

"A wise policy by him. The less you see of Coal, the safer you will be," Jacques said. "I'll advise you again to not interfere with Cordovin's investigation. You'll achieve nothing except getting yourself in trouble, and that will reflect badly on the company. Exercise good sense, Weiss."

"Why, _thank you_, father. I'll keep that in mind," Weiss said dryly.

"Excellent. Now, was there a reason behind your barging into my office uninvited, or was it once again a case of you possessing the most impeccable timing when it comes to vexing me?"

Weiss looked down at her tablet, then back at him. She'd forgotten all about the business she'd come to him for in the first place. Yet she couldn't fathom discussing company business with him now, when she knew he was so blatantly lying to her face.

"It was nothing important. We can talk about it later," Weiss said. "If you'll excuse me, I have a meeting scheduled in ten."

* * *

"He's impossible! Does he think I'm an idiot? I'd have to be blind not to see that he's-"

Jaune looked up at Weiss, slowly lifting his laptop and putting it on the table. She continued to pace around the living room, and they were lucky she was so light or else her stomping would have been felt on the apartment below. He could barely understand what she was ranting about anymore – he was just happy to not be the object of her ire for once.

"I swear." Weiss stopped for a second, taking a deep breath, before she spun on her heels and marched to the windows. "He's up to something, and it's bad. If I can't…"

An ambulance sped by on the street below, and Weiss trailed off, bending her head slightly and rubbing under her ear.

"I need a glass of water," she muttered. "And about a thousand pills."

She walked off to her room, and returned a minute later, only to go straight to the kitchen. Jaune rubbed the back of his neck, not knowing what to say or do. Weiss had said she'd recovered from Flynt's attack, but she obviously hadn't been completely truthful. Maybe he could help her out a bit using his Semblance, but he felt awkward about offering to.

She'd probably throw him out a window if he did, anyway.

"So, you don't have the best relationship with your dad, huh," he said when she came back with her glass and pills. Notably, the glass was still empty.

"What gave you such an outlandish idea, Jaune?" Weiss said, walking over to the counter on the corner of the room. "Was it the ranting or the stomping? Or maybe it was the going behind his back to infiltrate his company?"

"Probably all of the above."

Weiss made a little noise of triumph, and Jaune looked behind him and saw her pouring some wine in her glass.

"You know it's like, two in the afternoon, right?" he asked.

"Look, I've had a stressful morning," Weiss said, giving a little sigh. She finished pouring the wine and sat down beside him, leaving the bottle on the table before them. "Do you want some?"

"I don't do well with wine," Jaune said. "Makes me all purple and stuff."

"That's concerning," Weiss said, raising an eyebrow. "Your loss."

She popped the pills into her mouth and swallowed them with a big sip.

"You know, this reminds me of a day when my little sisters Melanie and Jan got the idea that they wanted to raid our parents' beer stash," Jaune said, leaning back. "Mom and Dad were out on a date, so it was me and my older sister Saphron taking care of the kids. And we said, _don't do that, you're gonna get all messed up and Mom and Dad are gonna get really mad with you_. But they didn't listen to us and drank, like, three cans each."

Weiss listened to him attentively, though he had a feeling she wasn't so enraptured by his story as she was curious how long he would go on. He cleared his throat.

"Anyway. Some time passed, Mom and Dad came back, and they did get really mad. Except not at Mel and Jan. Saphron and I got all the blame." Jaune shook his head. "Moral of the story is… Everybody's family sucks a little."

Weiss slowly sipped her wine, then lowered her glass and blinked at him. "_That_ was supposed to make me feel better?"

"…Yeah," Jaune said. "I guess the moral didn't land like I thought it would."

"You were a terrible big brother," Weiss said. "You were older, and you couldn't stop them from drinking? Couldn't you have locked the beer away somewhere?"

"Look, you're not getting the full picture here! That was just _one_ crisis happening that night. Someone peed on the bathroom floor, somehow we adopted like three wild cats during the course of dinner, and the baby was crying _for all of it_!" Jaune crossed his arms. "Plus, Saphron wouldn't stop texting her girlfriend. I was practically on my own."

"You know what? You _have_ made me feel better, Jaune," Weiss said, grinning. "Your misery has granted me new strength. Thank you."

"Happy to help," he grumbled.

Weiss drank the last of her wine and put her glass away. She got up and started pacing around the room again, though she was much calmer this time, a contemplative expression on her face.

"I just know there's something I'm missing. So much that I'm being kept in the dark about," she said. "Not just by my father either. Cordovin is in league with him, I'm certain of it. And that means Ironwood probably is too."

"We can't be sure of anything, though," Jaune said cautiously. He nodded at his laptop. "Not until the search is done."

"But what if it takes too long? What if by the time we find out the truth, it's too late to do anything with it?" Weiss asked.

Jaune sighed. "I'm doing the best I can."

At least he thought he was. Jaune couldn't help but feel that Weiss would have had this whole matter already finished if she had chosen someone else to help her. Someone with more experience than him - someone she could rely on.

He broke from his thoughts, realizing that Weiss had stopped pacing some time ago. She had stopped in the middle of the living room, a finger on her chin as she mouthed something to herself. Then, her lips curved in a bold grin, and she turned to look at him.

Oh, he didn't like that look. He didn't like it one bit.

"Something's just occurred to me," Weiss said, walking close. "Why are we bothering trying to get information out of _this_-" She leaned over the table and closed his laptop. "-when we can go get it straight from the source?"

"The source?" Jaune said. "You mean your dad? Because that makes zero sense."

"Flynt Coal. They're still holding him in the city," Weiss said. "I think I'd like to have a chat with him."

"But I thought-" Jaune stopped talking to swallow dry. He could see where this was headed, and he didn't like it one bit. "I thought Cordovin wasn't letting you see him."

"Yes. Not that I ever cared, but it was bothersome enough to stop me from trying before," Weiss said. "But now it's different. Now, I have you to help me."

Jaune got up in a hurry and hopped away from the sofa, waving his hands at Weiss.

"Nope! No way, Weiss! You can forget about it," he said. "I am not going to help you infiltrate the – the Atlesian army headquarters or wherever that guy is. No, no, no, I am not doing it!"

"Excuse me? How is this any different from when we infiltrated the SDC?" Weiss said, putting her hands on her hips.

"How is this any different-" Jaune repeated, flabbergasted. "One's a company that you're the heiress of. The other's the freaking Atlesian army, with armed soldiers and armed robots and probably armed dogs and cats and porcupines! Plus, you know – super illegal!"

"That would only matter if we got caught, which we won't be," Weiss said.

"Oh, it's easy for _you_ to be all confident," Jaune said. "You're the one with the rich dad to bail you out when things go horribly wrong. Me, I'd be straight out of luck."

He felt Weiss glaring a hole into his skull, but for once he didn't care if she was upset with him. How could she think it was fair to ask him something like that? He'd come all this way just to help her, and yeah, maybe things hadn't worked out that great so far, but that still had to count for something!

Jaune turned away, arms crossed. Coming to Atlas had been a mistake. He should have stayed in the Tower and continued training with Pyrrha. Maybe gone on a few hunts with her. He might not have done all that great then either, but at least Pyrrha would have held him up regardless.

He heard Weiss walk over to him and started to turn away, but she followed and stood in front of him. Jaune grit his teeth, expecting her to start mocking him – but she only stared at him, an odd expression on her face, if only because he'd never seen look so… compassionate.

"You're afraid you're going to screw up," she said softly. "Is that it?"

"Well. Yeah," Jaune said hoarsely. "Why shouldn't I be? It's not like I've ever infiltrated a military complex before."

"I suppose it's only natural that you'd be afraid." Weiss paused, biting on her lip. "Do you remember Vale?"

Jaune stared at her, mystified. "…I live there."

Weiss sighed. "I mean when Cinder attacked it," she said. "She opened a Breach in the sky, and she did it by using a Dust Reactor Core which she put on top of the VNN tower. Whatever she did to modify the Core, it heavily destabilized it."

Jaune nodded. Of course he remembered that day. He remembered it like it was yesterday.

"I had to find out a way to shut off the Core, but I couldn't, no matter how hard I tried. And all that time, all I could think about was how half the city was going to blow up, and how many people would be killed by the blast – myself included," Weiss said, and her voice trembled slightly at the end. "I was so, so afraid. But I kept trying anyway. And then _you_ showed up."

"Weiss, I… I really didn't do all that much," Jaune said quietly. "I just gave you a boost."

"You saved the city, Jaune. We saved the city _together_," Weiss said, some of her usual fervor returning to her eyes. "You really think I asked your help just because you're _good at hacking_? If I needed that, I would have hired someone. No, I called _you_, because believe it or not - I trust you."

Jaune stood there, stunned, truly not knowing what to say.

"Now, you can curl up on my couch and type your little codes in your computer," Weiss said, poking his chest. "Or you can come with me, and we'll get a conversation out of Flynt Coal."

"…O-okay," Jaune said, feeling much like a mouse. "We can try that."

"Good." Weiss clasped her hands. "Let's get to planning, then, shall we?"

* * *

"Is this really a good disguise?" Jaune said, poking his baseball cap. "There's no way this is gonna work. Maybe we should consult Pyrrha after all."

Weiss tried not to sigh in exasperation. She eyed the exit of the alleyway they found themselves in and pulled him further away from the passing pedestrians.

"We don't need to call Pyrrha," she said. "Your disguise is fine… You don't have the most recognizable face anyway. Anything too elaborate would just be counterproductive."

"That sounds like advice Pyrrha would give." Jaune nodded. "Although, she'd also reassure me that while I don't have a recognizable face, I am still very handsome and charming."

He looked at her expectantly.

"Moving on," Weiss said icily. "Do you have everything?"

Jaune checked the pockets of his hoodie. "Yep. Check comms?"

Weiss pressed a finger to the inside of her ear, as did Jaune.

"_Hello, hello, this is Innocent Civilian speaking to Snow Angel_," his voice crackled in her ear. "_Snow Angel, do you copy?_"

"We are not going to be using codenames. _Especially _those ones," Weiss said. "But everything seems to be in order. Time for you to go, then."

Jaune nodded and started to walk out of the alleyway. His pace slowed as he neared the exit, until he came to a complete halt. He whirled around to look at her, and activated his earpiece.

"_Maybe I should have brought my sword?_"

Weiss leered at him from afar, and that seemed to get her message across.

"_Right, not very stealthy._"

Turning back around, Jaune finally walked out of the alleyway, and after waiting a few seconds for traffic to stop, crossed to the other side of the street, where the Atlesian Headquarters was located.

Weiss had to admit she was nervous, not so much for herself but for Jaune. If she found herself in a tight spot, she could likely use her influence and good standing to get herself out of it. Jaune possessed no such advantages, and he had a massive self-confidence problem on top of that which no pep talk could fix in a day.

She could only hope she hadn't made a huge mistake dragging him into this.

* * *

Jaune entered the Headquarters through a side-door, closing the door carefully behind him. He took a couple steps forward and looked around anxiously, pulling his cap down in an attempt to cover his eyes. It didn't fit him very well. Maybe he should have gotten a bowl hat instead – although that wouldn't have been stealthy at all, thinking about it twice.

He shook his head. _Focus_! Yes, he was on a mission, and Weiss was counting on him to carry it out successfully. He couldn't afford to be distracted.

Pulling out his Scroll, he gave a quick look to the layout of the build – which he had _acquired_ from a totally legitimate source. Right, if he had entered through here, and the security room was there, then that meant… He wasn't that far.

He committed the layout to memory and started walking. It wouldn't do to wander the hallways always looking down at his Scroll. That would look highly suspicious to anyone that crossed paths with him.

Speaking of, there came a woman walking in the opposite direction. An army employee, if her uniform was anything to go by. Her brow furrowed as she caught sight of him, and for a moment all he could think about was turning around and running out of the building, mission be damned. But somehow he managed to keep his composure. He nodded and smiled at the woman, and her face lightened as she nodded back, and then they walked past each other.

Jaune took a deep breath. That had been nerve-wracking! He hoped the cold sweat on the back of his neck wasn't showing, or else fooling any more people would prove very difficult.

He was getting close to the security room now. But before he got there, there was one other thing he had to take care of. Luckily, he had accounted for that necessary objective during his studying of the building. There should be a coffee machine coming up around the next corner, any moment now…

And there it was! Jaune stopped before it and took a plastic cup, then put it under the machine. He pressed a button, then waited as the cup was filled, whistling wistfully and nodding to anyone that walked past. When the cup was two-thirds full, he turned the machine off and reached inside his pocket, taking out a tiny packet.

Jaune looked around, making sure no one was watching him, then swiftly tore open the packet and poured its contents into the cup. The white powder mixed with the coffee, and after a few seconds, there was no visible trace of it in the deep brown liquid.

_This actually feels kinda awesome_, he thought, walking away from the machine. _Kinda very illicit as well, though_.

Finally, he reached the security room. He gave a knock on the door, then turned the knob and went inside. He was greeted by the sight of a middle-aged man sat behind a desk. He had several monitors before him, some on the desk, and the greater rest of them mounted to the wall just next to it.

The man dragged his chair and gave Jaune a look of puzzlement. "Hello? May I help you?"

"Hi! Uh, sorry to disturb you." Jaune raised a hand in greeting. "I'm the new security intern."

"New intern? I wasn't told anything about a new intern," the man said.

"Oh. Well, I am," Jaune said. "I applied last week. You know, through the program."

"The program?" the man repeated, appearing utterly befuddled, before he saw the certain look on Jaune's face and nodded his head knowingly. "Right! The program. Yeah, I know about that. Just didn't know they'd already picked a candidate." He grumbled under his breath, "'Course, they never tell me anything."

Jaune laughed politely, even as his fingers started to get slippery around the coffee cup. He walked over to the man's desk.

"My name's Robert, sir," Jaune said.

"Pleasure to meet you, Robert. I'm Elliot," the man said. "So you wanna get in the security business, eh?"

"Yup. And I figured, where's a better place to start than the great Atlesian Army, right?" Jaune said.

"So you're one of _those_ types." Elliot grinned. "Let's see how long that enthusiasm lasts you, boy. Now, I suppose you wanna start learning some of what I do?"

"That'd be great! But first… Would you like a cup of coffee, Mister Elliot?"

Jaune put the cup on the desk and pushed it towards Elliot. The older man gave a dubious glance to the steaming coffee, pulling his collar away from his neck. "I swore off caffeine a couple a' months ago… But you know, one cup never hurt anyone."

He took the coffee and drank from it long and deep, and for a moment Jaune worried about how much powder he'd put in it. He had only accounted for a small sip, and had no clue what sort of effect a big intake might have.

"Alright, so. Look at my desk," Elliot said, gesturing at the keyboard and switches spread across his desk. "I control the security system of the entire building from here. I can do all sorts of functions with just the press of a button. For example-"

Suddenly, he closed his eyes and fell forehead-first on the desk, snoring loudly. Jaune blinked at him for a few seconds, then fearfully touched two fingers to Elliot's neck. Luckily, he was breathing just fine.

Jaune sighed in relief, then turned on his comms device.

"Weiss! I did it! I put a middle-aged man to sleep!" he declared. "…You know, that's a very odd thing to be excited about, now that I think about it."

A few seconds later, Weiss responded, "_Excellent. How about the rest of the situation?_"

"Oh, right. Wait just a moment."

Bending his knees, Jaune wrapped his arms under Elliot's armpits and lifted him off his chair, and sat him his sleeping body against a wall. He searched the man's pockets until he found a key, then raced over to the door and locked it.

"Okay! I'm secure for now," Jaune said, sitting down on the chair. "Now let's see about getting you some guardian eyes."

He looked at the screens before him, trying to get his bearings. They showed live black-and-white footage of the building's hallways and rooms, alternating every few seconds. It was hard to keep track of them all, but at least the area currently being monitored was identified on video.

Jaune looked down at the desk. There were so many buttons and switches, he had no hope of figuring them all out. Luckily, most of them were labeled quite simply, so he had at least a basic idea of what they did. He found the switch labeled RECORD and flipped it to the _off_ position, and gave himself a pat on the knee when the building didn't explode.

"Okay. Weiss, I think I've got everything mostly figured out," Jaune said. "The security cameras are still on, but I've turned off the live recording, so I should be able to guide you through the facility."

"_And no one will ever know I was here,_" Weiss said. "_Have you found where they're holding Coal?_"

"Give me a second and I'll give you an answer," Jaune said, watching the monitors closely. "Ah, there it is!" He stopped one of the monitors from switching coverage. "That's him, I'm pretty sure. Oh, and there's someone else with him."

"_Someone else? Do you know who?_" Weiss asked.

"I dunno. She's a very short woman," Jaune said. "Also, she looks very angry."

"_Cordovin! She must be interrogating him_," Weiss said. "_Can you hear what she's saying?_"

Jaune looked over the desk. "Sorry, I don't think the cameras have audio." He watched the screen. "Wow, she looks _really _angry – aaaand she just stomped out of the room. Lucky for us, I guess."

"_Let's assume she'll be back soon and work on getting me inside his room fast_," Weiss said. "_Where is he?_"

"Holding Chamber B-2." Jaune took out his Scroll. "Which is closer to… the east side of the building. You can get inside through there and then it's a short trip. Don't worry about being seen, I'll warn you if anyone comes your way."

"_Why, what a marvelous change of attitude_," Weiss said. "_See, Jaune? I knew I could count on you._"

Jaune grinned. He _was_ doing well, despite all the nerves, and having that be acknowledged felt great. And it certainly helped that he'd come across no death robots yet.

"Just doing my part in this adventure, Miss Schnee," he said, cracking his knuckles. "Alright… Tell me when you get to the door."

* * *

"_Take the next left. You're getting close now._"

Weiss nodded, keeping her head low as she turned a corner inside the headquarters. This hallway was like any other in the facility, and if it weren't for Jaune giving her directions, she would have struggled to find her way around.

"_The room's in the next hallway to the right,_" Jaune said. "_Just keep going and you'll find it easy – wait, no, stop! Someone's coming that way!_"

Weiss halted in her tracks and moved to the side, hiding herself under a locked doorway. She heard footsteps close by, and she felt her breath grow short as she thought they were coming straight her way – but then she saw the pair of uniformed men responsible for the sound, and they turned a corner to go in the opposite direction.

"That was close," she whispered, and looked around until she saw a camera on the ceiling. "Thanks for the heads up."

"_My pleasure_," Jaune said, and she couldn't fail to notice that he sounded even more relieved than her. "_Coast is clear now. You should be good to go._"

Weiss gave the camera a nod, then left the safety of the doorway, speeding up her pace as she turned a corner into the hallway the men had come from on. She kept a close eye on the rooms she passed, and quickly found the one she was looking for – the designation B-2 was displayed on its door in a glass panel.

"I'm there. But we may have a slight problem," Weiss said, looking at the device on the wall next to the door. "There's a digital lock."

"_Don't worry about that. I'm already on it_," Jaune said, and she heard the sound of him typing in the background. "_Just for my curiosity, do you know how to pick a lock?_"

"What do you take me for, some ruffian?" Weiss asked. "Why do you ask?"

"_I was just wondering how you were planning to get inside if it was just a normal lock_."

"I would break in, of course," Weiss said, lifting her chin. "In a subtle and elegant fashion, as befits my person."

"_Right, that's what I was thinking_…" Jaune said. "_I think I got it. Try the door._"

Weiss grabbed the door handle and pushed it down, and heard the satisfying click of the lock mechanism. "It worked. Good job," she said. "I'm going in."

"_Good luck!_"

Weiss reached for her earpiece, intending to shut it off, but thought twice about it and left it on. Jaune had put in all this work to help her, he deserved to hear whatever Coal had to say first-hand, and she could trust him not to distract her.

Weiss took a deep breath, centering herself before she turned the handle the rest of the way and pushed open the door. She walked into a featureless chamber, empty save for a metal table with a pair of chairs, and the man sat behind it.

The door slid shut behind Weiss as she met eyes with Flynt Coal. His head lifted a bit as he looked her up and down, and his fingers tightened into fists. There was a pair of handcuffs wrapped around his wrists, and those in turn were attached to the table by a short chain. Around his neck was a metal collar with a slight blue glow, which intensified the longer they stared at each other.

"Well, then," he said. "I was waiting to see when _you'd_ show up."

Weiss dragged back the vacant chair and sat down, laying her hands on the metal table. She fixed Flynt with a glare, but he only grinned in response. Weiss felt a coldness growing inside her, and noticed a buzzing in her ears that had been there all along.

"You were expecting me, then," she said stiffly.

"'Course I was. It was only a matter of time 'til you came to pay me a visit," Flynt said, and Weiss seethed at the almost _casual_ tone of voice he took. "I'm guessing I left a bit of an impression on you, eh?"

He shook his hands in the general direction of her ears, and his smile only grew when she scowled in return.

"Act smug all you want," Weiss said, composing herself. "I'm only here for information, nothing more. Then you might as well be dead to me."

"Exactly what I expect to hear from a Schnee," Flynt said. "Cordovin put you up to this?"

"_Cordovin_ has nothing to do with this," Weiss said. "This is just you and me."

"Right. And I believe you because…" Flynt scanned the room around him, then looked back at her and smiled again, but with nothing but contempt this time. "No, I have no reason to trust your kind, _princess_."

Weiss stood up. "Why did you attack me?"

Flynt just stared up at her silently, scorn in his eyes.

"How did you unlock your Semblance?"

"Same way as everyone else, I guess." He shrugged. "It sorta just happened."

Weiss leaned on the table, not believing a word he said.

"You're going to give me what I want," she said. "If I were you, I'd strongly consider starting to talk right now."

"Or else, what, you're going to beat the answers out of me?" Flynt raised an eyebrow at her. "That's extreme. Even daddy wouldn't go that far. But I bet he would find it just _admirable_."

"I am _not_ my father," Weiss said firmly.

"No, you're a saint," Flynt said, and clucked his tongue. "You think you're different than him, do you? Like you're some kinda hero. News flash, princess, you're just as much of a narcissistic piece of trash as he is. You take what you want, and you hurt who you want to hurt, and no amount of flying around killing monsters is gonna change that."

Weiss curled her fists, and she felt the cold inside her race down her arms all the way to her fingertips, where it waited to be unleashed. She stared at Flynt, gritting her teeth… and pulled back.

"So, let me get this straight," she said. "You come into my place of work and attack me out of nowhere. You nearly take my hearing from me. And you have _the audacity _of acting like you know who I am. Is that right?"

"I just tell it how I see it, princess," Flynt said. "And if you're that bothered by how I see you, then that's just your problem, isn't it?"

Weiss sat down, pressing her lips in displeasure. She looked at Flynt Coal, more confused than ever. If his hatred of her and her family was so great that he'd felt driven to attack her in public – to attempt to _kill her_ – then why was he being so cagey about his motivations now? He couldn't possibly be acting purely out of spite. There was something else at play which he was keeping close to the chest.

"Listen, you've made it more than clear than you hate me, and it seems there's nothing I can say or do to change that. And frankly, I'm not that interested in changing your perception of me," Weiss said. "But it's clear to me that you have two options here."

Flynt tilted his head, a vaguely interested expression on his face.

"One, you can continue to antagonize me," Weiss said. "That'll make me very upset, which I am sure you'll take much satisfaction from. Then in a couple days or a week, when Cordovin still can't get a helpful word out of you, she'll decide she's had enough and you'll be transferred to another facility, where you'll probably spent the rest of your life behind bars."

Weiss let that hang for a moment.

"Or, two, you can start talking," she said, linking her fingers on the table. "Answer my questions. Tell me what the hell is going on with you. And depending on what I hear, I can put in some work, get you a reduced sentence – maybe even get… whatever it is you wanted from this whole fiasco, done." She paused. "Help me help _you_, Mister Coal."

Silence fell, and Weiss held her breath in anticipation as she met Flynt's eyes. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, and she felt a surge of hope as he seemed to look at her in a new light – before his face closed up again.

"Beautiful speech. You almost had me fooled there," Flynt said. "But I'm not falling for your tricks. I'm not giving you what you want." He scoffed. "You can go report back to daddy now. Tell him I'm ready to be transferred."

He leaned back in his chair and rattled his chain, a grin returning to his lips, and Weiss stood up again, the buzzing in her ears growing louder all of a sudden. She gripped the edge of the table, so frustrated she could nearly flip it over.

"I'm going to tell you once more, you imbecile, and maybe you'll finally get it this time – I'm not here for my father, or Cordovin, or anyone but myself. I am trying to figure out why you tried to murder me, and if you had a drop of good sense in you, you'd understand that it's in your best interest to help me!" she yelled. "So _tell me_, how do you know my father? What did he do to you that was so terrible?!"

She slammed her hands on the table, and Flynt recoiled. He looked her up and down, and she saw him swallow dry, a conflicted look in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak-

"_Weiss!_" Jaune's voice crackled in her ear. "_We've got a huge problem._"

"What?" Weiss turned her head and pressed her earpiece. "Damnit, Jaune, I was just getting somewhere with-"

"_I'm sorry, but Cordovin's coming back, and she's got a bunch of dudes with her_," Jaune said. "_Weiss, you've gotta get out of there right now!_"

Weiss looked at Flynt, who seemed shocked by her outburst. If only she had one more minute with him… But she couldn't afford to stay. If Cordovin caught her, it was all over.

She walked to the door, but before she could open it, Jaune spoke to her again.

"_Wait! Don't go yet. Ah, crap, there's a lot of people around where you are,_" he said. "_You're not gonna be able to get anywhere without being seen._"

"I'll have to run the risk. Better to be discovered outside the room, at least," Weiss said. "Leave, Jaune. You were right before, it'll be much worse for you if you get caught. I should prove a sufficient distraction."

She opened the door and left the room. Looking around, she spotted no one in her immediate surrounding – but she knew her luck wouldn't last any longer. Weiss turned to the left, heading to the entrance she'd come into the building from-

Suddenly, a rumble ran through the facility, and then she heard what sounded suspiciously like energy-type weapons being fired. A few seconds later came a bunch of people running in a hurry, away from her general position.

"_Okay, uh, that – that should do the trick_," Jaune said.

"Jaune…" Weiss looked at the camera in the hallway. "What did you just do?"

"_Well, I – I made a distraction? I think?_ _I'll tell you about it outside! Now run!_"

Weiss shook her head, then took off running. She had a feeling whatever measure Jaune had taken to ensure their escape wouldn't end well, but at this point, all she could do was go along with it.

* * *

Jaune ran into the alleyway in front of the headquarters. He tripped over a trash can, but managed to somehow grab onto a wall and slow down his descent, until he found himself safely on his knees, breathing laboriously.

Not a minute later, Weiss joined him, making a notably more graceful entrance than him, though she looked about as winded.

"What the hell was that? Did you – did you blow something up, or…?" she asked, leaning on a windowsill.

"Nope," Jaune said, sweeping his hair back from his forehead. "I activated the facility's automated security."

Weiss looked at him wide-eyed. "You mean the…"

"The death robots." Jaune nodded. "I made them go haywire."

"You – you made them _shoot people_?!" Weiss screamed, then looked towards the sidewalk and pulled him further away from it.

"I didn't make them shoot anyone. Just, you know, the ceiling and stuff!" Jaune said. "…I might have panicked a little bit."

"You _think_?"

Weiss put her hands on her hips, and Jaune braced himself – only to be surprised when a laugh escaped Weiss' lips. By the look on her face, she was just as surprised as him.

"Well," Weiss said, clearing her throat. "Maybe you panicked. But we made it out of there alright, so I suppose we could call what you did _quick thinking_ instead?"

"Yep, quick thinking sounds good," Jaune said, scratching his neck. "Although if I'd had a couple more minutes, it would have been some _good_ thinking as well… Probably."

Weiss covered her mouth with a hand and shook her head at him.

"Let's go home, shall we?"

* * *

Weiss stepped out of the bathroom, feeling refreshed after a hot shower. She ran a hand through her hair to make sure it was dry enough, then walked to the living room, where Jaune was working on his laptop once again. He gave her a glance as she walked past him towards the wine cabinet, before he swiftly returned his attention to the screen.

"Are we making any progress on that?" Weiss asked as she opened the cabinet and deliberated over her small collection.

"Not really. We're getting into some old stuff now, though, like a decade plus ago," Jaune responded distractedly. "We got a few documents, but nothing useful."

"Give it time," Weiss said. "This will pay off sooner or later."

She pulled a select bottle from the cabinet and took two glasses from the counter, then walked over to the sofa.

"Would you care for a drink?" she asked as she poured her own glass.

"Eh, I'll pass," Jaune said.

"Jaune, we've had a long day."

He gave her a look, then shrugged and gestured at the remaining empty glass. Weiss grinned and filled it for him, and he hesitantly took a sip. His face contorted in a grimace, and he coughed a couple times.

"That's so… sour! Eew!" he whined. "How can youdrink this stuff, Weiss?"

"Oh, of course _you_ wouldn't appreciate a good bottle. You think cheeseburgers are fine cuisine," Weiss said.

"Hey! Just because I have crappy taste doesn't mean you don't also," Jaune said. "At least I'm not snobby about it."

"A sensible point." Weiss shrugged. "Still, you are entirely in the wrong."

Jaune gave her a hard look, then took another sip of the wine. He shuddered slightly, then sank a little on the couch.

"Today _was_ a long day," he said quietly.

"Indeed." Weiss took a sip. "And sadly, not all that productive."

They sat in silence for a while, and as relaxed as Weiss felt, she couldn't help but let her thoughts wander back to everything Flynt Coal had said to her – that she was just like her father. Nothing more than a fraud. She didn't let it ruin her mood, but it did leave a knot in her stomach.

"Uhm, Weiss?" Jaune called her attention, and she saw him swirling his wine around with a tentative expression on his face.

"Yes?" she said.

"About what you said to Flynt," Jaune said. "Do you really think your dad did something to him? Something bad?" He bit his tongue. "I mean, I know your dad's not exactly a stellar dude, but still…"

"My father is… He's a terrible man, Jaune. When it comes to seeing his interests come to fruition, he has no bounds," Weiss said. "You're right that I can't be sure that he hurt Flynt. But I know he's _capable_ of it."

"But what if Flynt's using your father's image as a distraction or something? What if he's manipulating you?" Jaune asked.

"Maybe he is," Weiss said. "But I spent a good part of my life jumping through hoops to excuse my father's actions. These days I know better. So until I have concrete evidence to the contrary, I will stick to what's most likely."

Weiss got up from the couch. She topped off her half-empty glass, then walked over to the windows and drank quietly, examining the city at the night from above.

"Okay, so, if we get to the bottom of this, and it turns out your father _is_ guilty of… something," Jaune said. "What are you gonna do then?"

"To be honest? I am not sure," Weiss said. "But ever since he married my mother, he's only done irreversible damage to the family name. He's brought us nothing but shame and guilt. I don't know what I'll do when – _if_ things turn out that way, but I made a vow to stop him from _completely _ruining the Schnee image."

"Okay, I get that. That's a very complicated position you're in, Weiss," Jaune said. "But if it's any consolation, when I think of the Schnee family, the first thing that comes to mind is you. You've already done a lot to restore your family's… honor, and stuff?" He rubbed his nose awkwardly. "Maybe I'm biased. But I'm pretty sure most people think the same way."

Weiss smiled faintly as she looked through the window. What had her father said earlier – that she was the face of the SDC? Perhaps he'd been right to say that. Though he surely didn't mean it in the same light as Jaune.

She turned around and drained her glass, then gestured at Jaune with it. "You know, you can be very sensitive when you try," she said. "I could almost be convinced to say you make for a decent fake boyfriend."

Jaune gave her a nervous chuckle, then swiftly emptied his glass. Weiss narrowed her eyes on him and walked closer.

"You're weird," she said, staring down at him.

Jaune blinked. "Uh, thanks?"

"No. I mean you've stopped flirting with me," Weiss said. "Or should I say, _at _me."

"Well, yeah, I thought you didn't like when I did that!" Jaune said.

"You're right, I don't. But that's never stopped you before," Weiss said. "_Something_ must have changed."

Jaune occupied himself with refilling his glass, acting like he'd not heard her at all.

"I've never seen you flirt with Pyrrha before. Or Ruby. Anyone else, really," Weiss said, gesturing for him to fill her glass too. He did so, though with a very begrudging attitude.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Me and the girls, we flirt all the time," Jaune said. "You don't know that because you don't live with us."

"_Mhmm._ You do live with them. Perhaps you have a peculiar image of them, then. Like actual people deserving of respect?" Weiss speculated. "And now that we've spent more time together, you've come to see me the same way."

"What? That's not it at all! You – you make me sound like a stupid… man, a very stupid man!" Jaune said, glaring at her. "Can you stop psychoanalyzing me now?"

Weiss sat back down, looking at him curiously. Perhaps she ought to let this go and respect his wishes, but he was presenting her with such a fascinating study… Not to mention that she deserved some payback for all the times he hadn't respected _her_ space.

"Are you aware that Pyrrha has a massive crush on you?" she said.

Jaune hunched over, nearly spitting out his drink. "_What!_"

"She does. Though I think she would protest to my calling it a crush," Weiss said. "She's quite serious about it."

"You don't know what you're talking about. Pyrrha and I are best friends, and that's all there is to it," Jaune said.

"That excuse would maybe work if we were kindergarteners," Weiss said. "Jaune, _please_. You'd have to be _truly _stupid not to notice it."

Jaune took a large sip and shrank on the sofa, his ears beet red – and Weiss was fairly certain it wasn't because of the wine.

"Okay! I know Pyrrha likes me!" Jaune grumbled. "Are you done now?"

"Not at all. So you know she likes you, and yet you've done nothing about it," Weiss said. "That's odd. Very odd."

"Is it? I told you, we're best friends, and that's enough for me," Jaune said.

"Really? You're perfectly at peace, knowing she has feelings for you, living with her, working with her…" Weiss grinned. "_Pyrrha Nikos_. There is _no temptation _from your side."

She paused, watching him for a moment. Jaune had been nervous before, but now he was all but squirming from his spot on the couch, his glass trembling slightly between his fingers.

"Pyrrha is a really good friend," he said slowly. "I don't want to ruin that."

"Ruin? She would accept you in a heartbeat," Weiss said. "In fact, I'm surprised she hasn't resorted to-"

She stopped talking, something clicking in her mind all of a sudden. She pulled back, connecting dots, and Jaune looked at her warily.

"You're not afraid of being rejected," Weiss said. "You're afraid of Pyrrha – of anyone – accepting your advances."

"What?" Jaune gulped. "T-that doesn't make any sense at all."

"You're afraid of getting close with someone… and disappointing them," Weiss continued undeterred. "Of course. Because Pyrrha might accept you, but if she got to stay with you long enough, then you feel that eventually-"

"Alright! Fine, you cracked the puzzle!" Jaune exclaimed. "Can we stop talking about this now?"

Weiss stopped talking, realizing that she might have gone too far. She hadn't meant to upset him, but… If what she said was having such an effect on him, then that could only mean she was right, and he'd been aware of all those feelings before.

She pulled her legs up on the sofa and lay on top of them, then turned to look at Jaune. He was sulking, his eyes fixed on the wall in front of him, and his glass lay abandoned on the table.

"Jaune. You… really don't have to feel this way," Weiss said. "I meant what I said earlier, about Vale. I do believe you're… good."

"Oh, really? You didn't say all that just to get me to help you?" Jaune said bitterly.

"No! I really meant all of it," Weiss said. "Jaune, there's a reason Pyrrha likes you. I used to not understand her at all, but now I kinda do. And, she and the others wouldn't keep you around if they thought you were worthless. You're part of the team, like any of us. You deserve to be."

"Do I? Because last I checked, the only reason I got to where I am today is because I _cheated _my way into Beacon," Jaune said. "You didn't forget about that, did you?"

"I rarely think of it! No one does, except _you_, apparently!" Weiss huffed. "You're only afraid because you want to be."

Jaune turned to look at her, and for the first time Weiss got the sense that he was actually angry with her.

"You don't get it all," he said. "You _can't_ get it."

"You think I've never been afraid in my life?" Weiss said. "What did I tell you-"

"I don't care! You haven't lived my life, Weiss!" Jaune said. "And – and why do you think you can talk to me about this stuff? You've treated me like I'm an idiot since the first day we met! But now that you've been nice to me for a few days, you think I'm gonna forget about all of that? Because then you _really _must think I'm stupid."

Weiss looked away, unable to meet his eyes all of a sudden. He was right – of course he was right, she'd often been insensitive towards him, sometimes veering on cruel, and realizing it filled her with guilt. Jaune had always had an issue with confidence, that wasn't her fault, but she certainly hadn't helped him with it. Just the contrary.

"I'm… I'm sorry," she said. "I never meant to hurt you."

Jaune took a deep breath, and Weiss expected him to dismiss her apology outright, even go so far to leave. Instead, he turned to her and lightly shrugged.

"It's alright," he muttered. "You've got a lot of stuff going on."

Weiss opened and closed her mouth, temporarily lost for words.

"That's…" she said slowly, furrowing her brow. "…ridiculous! You should be angry with me!"

"Sorry, I can't help it if I'm not," Jaune said. "I could try, but that would take a lot of energy, and you've already demanded way too much out of me today."

Weiss rubbed her eyes. She couldn't quite believe him… Or, well, she could. His reaction made perfect sense, in light of what she'd just uncovered. He ought to be angry with her, he had every right to be, but he didn't believe in himself nearly enough.

It was maddening.

A little endearing.

_And it can't stay that way_.

"Going back to where we started…" she said. "You've stopped flirting with me, because… you think there is a chance I might actually grow to like you."

"According to your theory, yes," Jaune said, sounding so tired now that he was just agreeing to whatever she said.

"I see…" Weiss pursed her lips. "Well, you might have been onto something there."

He turned his head to look at her, his eyes shifting around as if he were taking a university-level math class. Weiss let out a small sigh, then pushed him flush against the couch and climbed onto his lap.

"Do you get it now?" she said flatly, peering at him with hawk-like eyes.

"Uuuh…"

Seeing that he was still struggling to accept what was happening, Weiss decided to drop all subtlety. Grabbing Jaune's chin, she turned his head up a bit, then lowered her own and pressed their lips together.

It was awkward. He was shocked, understandably so, therefore there was little response from his part. But when she pulled back, Weiss nonetheless felt herself a little out of breath.

"And now?" she asked pointedly.

"Y-yeah?" he said meekly. "I think I do… Unless you're, I mean, I don't wanna make-"

"No, this is exactly what you're thinking," Weiss said. She put her hands on his shoulders and brought her face close to his again. "Is this enough to get it through your stubborn head that I think you're a great guy?"

"…Yes?"

"Fantastic. _Although_…" Weiss clapped her hands, turning off the lights. "I had a little more in mind after that."

Weiss couldn't see him very well in the dark anymore, but she was sure Jaune looked appropriately astonished.

"Wait – you don't mean-" He moved around under her, pushing her away just a bit. "You're kinda drunk."

"I've had two glasses. It would take much more to warp my judgment to this level, _trust me_," Weiss said. "Here. Smell my breath."

"I mean – I trust you – but you'd have the same wine breath if you drank one glass or twenty, right?" he said quickly. "If you weren't knocked out cold at that point. Although, even then you'd have wine breath. Unless you were dead, I guess." He paused. "Why am I saying all this stuff?"

Weiss smiled. "You're very funny when you're nervous."

_He's right. You're making a mistake._

"Wanna make me laugh in my bedroom, Jaune?"


	5. It's My Turn

Weiss woke up with a shudder.

She rolled over in her bed and curled up, wanting nothing more than to sink her head in her pillow and fall back asleep. But she could feel the sunlight filtering in through the curtains of her bedroom and showering her upper back in warmth, and her eyes were fluttering open all on their own.

_You've got work to do today_.

Grumbling under her breath, Weiss pushed herself up and pressed her back against the headboard behind her. She put her hands to her neck and stretched it from side to side, taking on a slight frown. She felt strange, and she couldn't quite figure out if it was in a good or bad way, and why.

She blinked twice, banishing the lasting drowsiness, and started to get up. In doing so, her eyes passed over the other side of her bed. It was messy, the sheets thrown about haphazardly – somehow, she got the impression someone had been lying there for some time, someone other than her – and since when was there an _other side_ to her bed?

Suddenly, everything clicked.

_Did I – did he – oh. Oh no._

Weiss stepped away from the bed, a hand shooting up to her mouth in reflex. She bit on her finger, her mind going into overdrive at the same time that it wasn't working at all.

_Let's not panic here. This is nothing you didn't plan for._

That's right. It would be one thing if last night had just _happened_, but she had been very deliberate about where things had ended up. She had no legitimate reason to be surprised or… regretful.

Weiss shook her head and walked to her wardrobe. She found the comfiest clothes she had and put them on fast, then made for the door. Her hand froze before it got to the handle. She had the most unreasonable impression that she would open the door and pass into a bottomless abyss, and there would be no clawing her way back to the surface.

_You're nervous. This is totally normal_.

She took a deep breath, and opened the door.

* * *

"_Gah_!"

Jaune stumbled away from the stove, letting go of the frying pan for a moment as he pressed his lips to his finger. He eyed the sizzling bacon with suspicion, waiting for it to make another attack on him, but it seemed to have settled down for now. He gave it a few more seconds to be sure, then got close again.

This was nerve-wracking. Almost as nerve-wracking as-

"Hello."

Jaune jumped in fright, nearly tossing the frying pan across the room. He whirled around and saw Weiss standing in the doorway, a confused look on her face like she didn't understand why he was in her kitchen – and seeing as he didn't have a good idea about that either, he figured that was a reasonable doubt for her to nurture.

"Hey," Jaune said, wincing as his voice jumped a few octaves. "Good… Uhm, good morning!"

Weiss stared at him blankly for a second, then nodded and walked to the stove. "Good morning," she said softly. She looked at the pan, her lips forming a curious line. "What are you doing?"

"I'm making breakfast," Jaune said. "Eggs and bacon, to be exact."

Weiss nodded silently.

"I actually don't know if you like bacon," Jaune said. "Or scrambled eggs." He paused awkwardly. "Sorry, I should have asked if you wanted anything before I started. But I… uh… didn't wanna wake you up."

He swallowed dry and turned away, focusing his attention on the bacon. To be honest, he wasn't exactly sure what had possessed him to do all of this. Not that he was doing a lot. But he had woken up – that had been _something_ – and then he'd found himself in the kitchen, making breakfast, because… that was the expected thing for him to do?

His sisters had instilled a lot of romantic-comedy logic into him growing up. Hopefully it would pay off now.

"This is okay, right?" Jaune asked. "'Cause if you're not hungry or you wanna order something or… You know, I'm alright."

"What?" Weiss said. "Oh, no, this is nice. I have to go to work soon, but breakfast's nice."

She patted his arm, then looked at her hand as if just noticing what she was doing, and cleared her throat. Jaune got the impression he wasn't the only one feeling awkward.

"So…" Jaune looked around, sucking his teeth. "Nice weather today."

He looked at Weiss, and she seemed to suddenly become much more aware of herself and everything around her. Her shoulders rose slightly, and her eyes sharpened – he could practically hear the gears turning inside her head.

Jaune braced himself. _Now _must be the moment everything blew up.

"You _are_ okay, right?" Weiss asked.

"Huh?" Jaune blinked. "What – what do you mean?"

"I was very direct with you last night," Weiss said matter-of-factly. "I don't regret what happened, _but_ it's a complicated situation. I'd understand if you were freaked out."

"No. I'm… pretty okay, I guess?" Jaune said. "…So you don't regret it?"

Weiss raised an eyebrow at him, and Jaune understood that _that _wasn't the part she'd meant to stick with him.

"Right!" Jaune said. "We're adults. Adults are attracted to each other." He nodded. "This is perfectly normal."

"Of course," Weiss said. She put a hand on her hip, and her gaze strayed bashfully. "And if it was enjoyable for both parties…?"

Jaune did a double take. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting of this conversation, but it was somehow turning out more _and _less complicated than the bits he'd imagined.

"Yeah!" he said. "I mean, I enjoyed it. And maybe I was a little, you know, it's okay if you didn't-"

"You did well, Jaune. I was perfectly satisfied," Weiss interrupted him. "But in the interest of clarity, I've had little experience in… these areas."

"You have?" Jaune looked at her doubtfully. "You're not just saying that, right?"

Weiss smirked. "You must not remember last night very well."

"It's all mostly a blur, yeah." Jaune looked at the wall and nodded appreciatively. "A really exciting blur."

He saw Weiss shaking her head in the corner of his vision, before she walked to the kitchen table and sat down.

Jaune looked at the frying pan and grimaced, realizing he hadn't been paying nearly enough attention to it for a while now. Thankfully, it hadn't been too long, and the bacon wasn't burned. He turned off the stove and grabbed the scrambled eggs, then went to the table, where he'd already put down the plates and silverware.

"So, like, what does this mean for us?" Jaune asked carefully as he sat down and started filling Weiss' plate. "I guess it makes our cover story easier to sell, at least."

"I suppose it does." Weiss looked at her plate, a look in her eyes that he couldn't quite decipher. "We're still teammates. And friends." She grabbed her fork and knife. "And I suppose we will see what more there is to it, if anything."

"That sounds reasonable," Jaune said. "We wouldn't want to jump onto anything!"

"Exactly," Weiss said. "I think we should hold off on talking to the rest of team about this. Just until we have it all figured out. If that's okay with you."

Jaune nodded. He hadn't quite stopped to think about the rest of the team until now. He could just picture how Yang would react to learning about this. It would be a field day for her. He wasn't sure how Ruby would react, though he imagined she would be supportive. Blake likely wouldn't care much.

And Pyrrha…

Suddenly, Jaune's throat felt dry.

"Can I take something to drink from the fridge?" Jaune asked.

"Help yourself," Weiss said. She watched him as he stood up, a little smile coming to her lips. "This _is_ nice, Jaune. I really appreciate the time you took."

"It's really not all that much," he said, rubbing his neck. "I'm just trying to be a gentleman."

"Well, you're doing an excellent job so far," Weiss said. "I certainly wouldn't complain if all my mornings went like this from now on."

"I'll see what I can do about that," Jaune said. "Though you might want to invest in some fireproof equipment, just to be safe."

Weiss grinned, and they ate their breakfast in a peaceful quiet.

* * *

Weiss tapped a pen restlessly on her desk, trying to keep her focus on the document before her. She had opened it nearly half an hour ago, and it was nothing overly complicated, but every time she started reading, her eyes would halt at a random word and she'd find her thoughts straying from the business at hand. When she caught herself doing that, she would have to start back from the beginning, and so the cycle continued.

Pushing her tablet away, Weiss leaned on her desk and rubbed her forehead. Her inability to focus today was irritating, to say the least. Like always, she had a lot of work on her plate, and if she didn't get a good rhythm going soon, her lateness would snowball, and she'd be behind for the rest of the week. Even more vexing than that, however, was how it made her feel like a schoolgirl obsessed about romance.

A high school romance would have been infinitely simpler than this, though. Weiss felt an uneasy pit her stomach when she thought about it. It would have been easier on her if she took her own advice and waited to see how things played out, but that was not in her nature. And it didn't help that she could picture how awesomely terrible this whole thing could turn out.

Weiss groaned. Why did it have to be _Jaune Arc_, of all people, causing her all this misery. Though she figured there was a certain poetic justice to it.

A knock on her door brought her out of her thoughts.

"Come in."

The door opened, and Whitley stared at her from the hallway, a very displeased look on his face.

"I texted you twenty minutes ago," he said. "Have you gotten to the age that you forget how phones work?"

Weiss glanced at her Scroll on her desk and pursed her lips at its blinking light. "My apologies, Whitley," she said. "I've been busy with work."

Whitley walked in and closed the door behind him. He scanned her mostly-empty desk, then clucked his tongue. "Busy. Yes, I can see that."

"As always, you are so very funny, Whitley," Weiss said dryly. "Though if I were you, I would think twice about giving lip to the person who you begged to be your mentor."

"I don't remember ever begging anything of you," Whitley said, raising his chin.

"Oh? We must have conflicting recollections of last week, then," Weiss said.

"That would be worrisome. Perhaps you sustained damage to your brain as well as your ears, sister?" Whitley tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Yes, that would explain a lot. Though you've always been a bit strange, even before that whole sordid mess."

Weiss sighed. She could trade barbs Whitley all day long, and it would certainly prove a welcome distraction with everything going on inside her head, but she feared overwhelming him and causing him to leave in a huff. She had taken on the duty of teaching him, and she had every intention of fulfilling that duty – and impeccably, too.

"Grab that and sit down beside me, Whitley," she said, nodding to a chair in a corner of the office.

Whitley did as he was told, though not without giving her a dubious look. "Aren't we going somewhere?"

"Not today," Weiss said, grabbing her tablet. "Last time, I tried to explain to you the values of our company, but you didn't fully grasp the concept. I've prepared some material to help with that."

She opened a file, then handed the device to Whitley, and she saw his brow furrowing as his eyes scanned the material.

"And what's this, exactly?" he asked.

"It's a monthly report from one of our Mistral affiliates – specifically detailing its ground-level employees," Weiss said.

"Okay," Whitley said. "They don't seem to have that many people."

"Yes, they're a small operation. They're responsible mainly for the redistribution of the resources we harvest in Anima," Weiss said. "I can't be sure, but I believe they've been working for us since the time father took over leadership."

"Interesting," Whitley said, in a tone that screamed how not interested he was. "And what am I supposed to take away from this?"

"Take another look."

Whitley pursed his lips and read over the report again, and again, and again, his eyes flitting up and down in a studious fury. Weiss gazed at her fingernails and ran her thumb over them, content to give him some time to find what she wanted on his own – though she hardly thought that would happen.

In the silence that followed, Weiss found her eyes straying back to her Scroll. She expected at any time to receive a strong-worded message from someone – Pyrrha, most likely. It was a ridiculous thought, as Jaune had agreed not to tell the others about their – _thing_ – and even if he did tell Pyrrha, it wasn't like she'd text Weiss in a fury. She'd certainly be upset, but it wouldn't be like Pyrrha to do something like that.

Though perhaps she'd be justified in doing so.

Weiss looked at her brother again.

"The salaries," she said. "You might find something interesting there."

It took only a few seconds for Whitley to make the connection from there. "Yes! There are a few discrepancies. Many, actually," he said. "There are people responsible for the same function, but who are paid vastly different salaries. Some have been employed for longer, yet they're paid far less." He looked up at Weiss. "Is that what you wanted me to find?"

"That's it," Weiss said, and she felt a strange feeling of pride for him. "Now, why do you think that is?"

"I'm not sure I can tell just by reading a report. I _would_ say it's because perhaps they're bad workers, but I can already tell that's not what you want to hear," Whitley said. He cast another look at the file. "…Is it because they're faunus?"

Weiss clasped her hands on her lap and leaned towards Whitley. "Yes. They're being paid less for the simple fact that they're faunus. And _why _is that possible, Whitley?"

Whitley shifted in his chair, appearing uncomfortable all of a sudden. A part of Weiss wanted to be angry at him. She could see her father's resemblance as clear as day on Whitley's face in that moment. But she reminded herself that this was a reality which she herself had taken a long time to accept, and even longer to become comfortable acknowledging it.

"This sort of thing happens, Whitley, because the people in charge think they can get away with it," Weiss said. "And to a certain extent, they're right. They can get away with it, because that's the way things have been for decades. But that doesn't make it right. And when we learn about these situations, we have to correct them with all the means at our disposal."

"I see…" Whitley said slowly. "So we should raise the faunus' pay? Or, equalize everybody's?" He nodded. "We lose less with the second option."

"You would think so, wouldn't you? But that's a warped view of things," Weiss said. "We _could _shave off the top end of the humans' salary and redistribute it to the faunus. But that's not a real solution in the long term. Some people might be satisfied, but overall, we'll just be making everyone's lives a little bit more miserable."

"Yes, but why do we care about that? It's not our duty to make our employees happy," Whitley said. "I'm not saying this to be callous, sister, I'm just speaking pragmatically. If we start acting in the interest of individuals instead of the company, then we'll inevitably sink."

"Or, think of it this way – we will make people happier, more motivated, and they will work harder. They'll develop new technologies. Ultimately, it will all result in greater profits," Weiss said. "How is that for pragmatism?"

Whitley crossed his arms, and Weiss couldn't tell how he felt about what she was saying. Though the fact that he wasn't immediately dismissive of it showed promise.

"Responsibility and progress, Whitley," Weiss said. "We help the world, we help _people_, and we'll be rewarded greatly for it." She gestured at him. "That shouldn't be the only reason for you to be a principled businessman and… just, decent person in general, but it's a start."

Weiss paused, an unease falling upon her as Whitley contemplated her words. She certainly meant everything she said, but she hardly thought herself a good role model at the moment. She wondered if Whitley would take her half as seriously if he were any the wiser about what had been going on with her lately.

"Could you stop that?" Whitley said suddenly. "You're turning the room into a freezer."

Weiss looked down at her hands and was startled to see the air gleaming around them, barely visible waves of frost radiating off her skin. She shook them and crossed her arms, sitting up taller in her chair.

"Sorry. I didn't realize I was doing that," she said.

"Do you do that often?" Whitley asked, a vaguely contemptible look in his eyes as he peered at her hands.

"Only when my mind wanders," Weiss said, and cleared her throat. "I'm always cold. Though these days I don't take much notice of it."

"I've noticed that," Whitley said. "Why does your Semblance work differently than Winter's? Hers doesn't involve anything ice-related, as far as I'm aware."

"We're related. That doesn't mean our powers should work the same way." Weiss dragged her chair back. "There's still a lot of research to be done on Semblances. It's a fascinating topic, really. And not one I agreed to discuss with you."

Whitley rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Fair enough. Always business with you."

"Like you're any different," Weiss said. "I've emailed some extra material to you, I want you to read it and think on it, and the next time we meet, I'll let you tag along for some actual work." She raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm sure you'll provide _invaluable _insight."

Whitley grinned in full agreement and stood up. "Have a good day, sister. Thank you for your time."

"You're welcome." Weiss got up and opened the door for him, giving him a light pat on the shoulder as he walked past. "Take care of yourself, will you?"

He gave her a strange look, then walked away. Weiss stayed at the doorway for a moment, watching him leave in silence, before she walked back into her office and picked up her Scroll.

_Would you like to meet up somewhere for lunch?_

* * *

Weiss arrived at the restaurant just as the mid-day rush diminished. She had flown straight from the SDC on a glyph, but had dropped off a couple streets away to avoid drawing too much attention to herself. Though even something that flashy wouldn't give the busy people of Atlas much pause, especially at this hour.

She looked around for Jaune, but he didn't seem to have arrived yet. The restaurant was a tad distant from the apartment, she supposed. She could have chosen somewhere closer, but she quite liked this place, not only for its food but also for its ambience. The outdoor area was lovely.

If she was going to do this, she would prefer to do it somewhere pleasant. Weiss was sure Jaune would appreciate that too.

"Hey!" Weiss heard behind her, and when she turned, saw Jaune finish crossing the street.

"Hello," Weiss said. "Did you walk here?"

"I took a cab. It took a hell of a long time to get here, though." Jaune shook his head. "Traffic. Cars, lots of cars. And trucks."

"That's Atlas for you," Weiss said, smiling pleasantly.

"Bikes too!" Jaune exclaimed, then stood awkwardly for a moment before he gestured at the restaurant. "Food?"

Weiss nodded, and led him inside the place. Much as she would have liked to eat outside, that kind of space didn't offer much privacy, especially for people of their reputation. The inside was still cozy enough, though. They sat at a table near a corner.

"So what do they have here?" Jaune asked, grabbing a menu.

"They do gourmet sandwiches, and some other things," Weiss said, and looked at him knowingly. "It's no _pizza_, I know, but…"

"I still want to try out Atlas pizza," Jaune said wistfully. "Maybe tonight? Please?"

Weiss sighed. "We'll see."

Jaune was already making this impossibly difficult, and without even realizing it. Weiss was beginning to think she'd overestimated her resolve. But she had to carry on, as agonizing as it would be.

A waitress approached them, and after a couple minutes of deliberating, they made their orders. As the young woman left for the kitchen, Weiss prepared herself to speak, but found herself tapping her fingers on the table restlessly instead.

"So," Jaune said slowly. "I may have some bad news. Do you want me to tell you?"

Weiss looked at him, baffled. "I can't very well refuse now that you've mentioned it."

"Right! Anyway," Jaune said. "I think our operation yesterday had some unintended consequences. Mainly the part where I – _ahem _– set off a bunch of weaponized death robots." He gestured helplessly. "They're transferring Flynt tonight."

"They are?" Weiss said, leaning her elbows on the table. "How do you know that?"

"I'm keeping my ear to the ground," Jaune said. "Which is my way of saying I may or may not have planted a bug in their system while we were there."

Weiss frowned. "You're not serious?"

"I mean, I was already committing a bunch of crimes!" Jaune said, gesticulating wildly. "If I'm gonna kill one person, I might as well kill a whole village, right?" He paused. "I probably shouldn't say this sorta thing out loud."

Weiss shook her head. She wasn't surprised that they were moving Flynt, but it was still frustrating to hear it. She had gotten so close to getting something useful out of him. Now, he would probably become truly out of her reach.

"I'm sorry," Jaune said. "They probably wouldn't be transferring him if we had just gotten in and out quietly. I made them worry with the whole robot fiasco."

"It's okay. You have nothing to be sorry about," Weiss said. "They were going to transfer him sooner or later. What you did was better for us in the long run, even if it doesn't feel like it right now."

"Maybe you're right," Jaune said. "Still sucks, though."

"That, I have to agree with. Though losing Flynt doesn't _upset_ me that much, to be honest," Weiss said, pursing her lips. "He was _extremely_ rude to me."

Jaune nodded sagely. "He did almost blow out your ears."

"Oh. Yes, of course," Weiss said faking a cough. "That's… exactly what I was talking about."

The waitress came back and put their plates down before them. Jaune's eyes grew wide as he looked at his sandwich, and she had barely walked away before he dove in and took a massive bite off of it. He leaned back, groaning while he alternated between gesturing at his mouth and Weiss.

"Delicious!" Jaune said when he finished swallowing. "I'm never gonna complain about your food choices again."

"You should have never doubted me in the first place," Weiss said, and gently picked up her own sandwich.

"Right, I know that now," Jaune said. "By the way, is this, like, a date or something?"

Weiss stopped, holding her sandwich near her mouth for a moment as she suddenly remembered why she had invited Jaune here in the first place. How could she have so easily forgotten?

"I… I suppose. If you want to see it that way," she said, and the knot in her stomach grew tighter. "Though we seem to be – to be doing things a bit out of order, wouldn't you agree?"

She laughed nervously, then bit into her sandwich almost as ferociously as he had. Jaune looked away, his ears reddening.

They ate silently for a while. Weiss could feel Jaune tapping his foot under the table the whole time, though she couldn't blame him for being anxious. She couldn't be sure of his feelings, but she might be in an even worse state than him.

_You know what you have to do. End it._

When he was finished and she was halfway through, Weiss put her sandwich down on her plate and looked at Jaune.

"What you said this morning," she said quietly. "About two adults being attracted to each other."

"Yes?" Jaune said, spinning his plate mindlessly.

"Well." Weiss wasn't sure where she was going with this, to be honest. "You had a point, I suppose. But, is that all there was to it? Physical attraction?" She raised a hand pre-emptively. "Please understand, I'm not trying to pressure an answer out of you-"

"No!" Jaune said. "I mean… You're beautiful. Really, really beautiful. I've always thought that." He paused. "But I also like _you_, you know?"

"That seems hard to believe," Weiss said. "I can't think of a reason why you'd honestly be any fond of me."

"Maybe I'm not the only one with self-confidence problems, then," Jaune said. "And, by the way, I can't think of many reasons why you'd like _me_ either. So."

Weiss looked away for a moment, her heart thumping in her ears like drums. This wasn't going any close to how she'd intended.

"You _are_ attractive, I can't deny that," she said. "Whatever work you've been doing, it… it shows."

"Thanks?" Jaune said unsurely, glancing at his arms. "I mostly just swing my sword around and fall on the floor a lot."

"Well, apparently it's been working decently well so far!" Weiss huffed. "And… you are charming, in a _you_ sort of way. I'd say that, overall, your qualities far outweigh your flaws."

"You don't do this complimenting thing often, do you?" Jaune said, scratching his head.

"Look, I'm just trying to-" Weiss paused, centering her thoughts. "I've had some time to think. And I don't know if this thing between us is right… But I also don't know that it's wrong."

She grabbed her sandwich and took a bite, and chewed for a long while.

"I'm willing, if you are willing, to explore this," she said finally. "You'll be in town for a while still, right?"

"Until this business with Flynt and your dad is done, yeah," Jaune said.

"So… Perhaps we can try this out. And when you have to go back to Vale… Then we'll hopefully have figured out where we stand," Weiss said. "Would that be okay with you?"

"…Yeah. Sure!" Jaune said. "We can try."

"Good," Weiss said. "This is surely a date, then."

She breathed out, as relieved as she was terrified. There was a voice inside her head, screaming at her to backtrack _immediately _and tell Jaune that this had been a mistake, and if they took it any farther, things wouldn't end well for either of them.

But was that true? Yes, this… relationship might not last long, especially with the foundations it had started on, but that didn't mean it had to end in disaster. They were getting along splendidly now, why did that have to change? If they were careful… If _she_ was careful… Everything would work out fine.

Weiss finished her sandwich, then dragged her chair back and stood up, giving Jaune a slight smile. "I still have work today, I'm afraid, so if you're finished too, I'll go ahead and pay."

"Yeah, I'm good," Jaune said, standing up too.

He looked at the table, then frowned and started beating his thighs with an intense look on his face. Weiss stared, mortified, wondering if this was some strange post-lunch ritual of his.

"Ahah!" Jaune exclaimed suddenly, reaching into his coat and taking out a wallet. "Knew I hadn't forgotten it. Just misplaced it. Alrighty, where's the counter?"

Weiss stared at him in confusion for a moment, before she realized what he was asking. "I'm sorry – I meant I'm going to pay for us both."

"Oh." Jaune frowned. "You really don't need to, Weiss."

"I have the money," Weiss said. "It really is no bother, Jaune. I invited you here, I'm happy to cover the bill."

"I also have money, though. Not SDC money, sure, but money," Jaune said. "Let's just each of us pay for ourselves."

"If you insist," Weiss said, and they joined the line to pay. She threw him a sideways glance. "You were thinking of being a _gentleman_ and paying for me too, weren't you?"

Jaune tried to put up a face like he didn't know what she was talking about, but it crumbled in seconds. "Yeah… But I realized how ridiculous that would be, so I didn't even suggest it. And I knew you wouldn't let me," he said, and shrugged. "Chivalry's an outdated concept anyway. Some dudes gotta learn to forget about it."

Weiss looked up at him, and after a moment's consideration, took his hand.

"Listen to you talk," she said. "I'm actually a little impressed."

"Eh, don't give me _too _much credit," Jaune said. "I got a mini-lecture from Blake once. She went really into detail about all that stuff."

"Well, you didn't immediately forget about it," Weiss said. "You took it to heart, and that means a lot."

She rose on the tip of her toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek, then pulled away a little and looked around as if nothing had happened. She met his eyes for a second, and they both smiled.

* * *

"Is the transport team ready to go?" Captain Cordovin asked, stopped near a military truck on the parking lot of the Atlas Headquarters.

"Yes, ma'am," her inferior said, nodding his head dutifully. "They have been briefed on the nature of the mission and are waiting for the prisoner to arrive."

"Good." Cordovin looked around, her forehead creasing. "Speaking of, where is that devil?"

"They should arrive with him any moment now, ma'am."

True to his word, the elevator on the other end of the lot opened, and out came a small procession of armed soldiers, leading in the middle of them Flynt Coal, his hands locked in handcuffs and neck bound by a Semblance-suppressing collar.

"There he is!" Cordovin said.

The soldiers marched over to her, stopping just beside the truck. As one of them parted from the rest to open the back of the vehicle, Cordovin stepped close to Coal, her lips parting in a wry smile.

"The man of the hour," she said, gesturing at him. "Tell me, dear rapscallion, are you looking forward to seeing your new home? I hear it's awfully small, but quite cozy nonetheless!"

Coal glared at her and opened his mouth wide, and Cordovin took a half-step back, for a moment scared that she was about to be hit by an explosive soundwave – but barely a whimper escaped Coal's lips before he doubled over, his collar glowing an intense blue.

"Not very smart of you, now was it?" Cordovin cackled. "I must say, I will almost miss your _savage_ antics, boy."

Coal looked up at her, his head twitching slightly as the collar dimmed. "Take this thing off me and say that to my face again, witch."

"No, I don't think I will," Cordovin said, and nodded at the truck. "Get him into the vehicle, men. It's time to leave. And remember, the success _or _failure of this mission will reflect on all of us. Best you all keep that in mind."

The soldiers grabbed Coal and tossed him into the truck. He fell onto a bench, and before he could try getting up and away, they linked his handcuffs to it.

"Safe travels, Mister Coal!" Cordovin said, and caught a glimpse of Coal's furious expression just before the truck was closed.

The rest of the transport team got into their position at the front of the vehicle, and a minute later, they drove out of the parking lot. Cordovin waited a moment, then turned around, her gaze directed to the lone motorcycle remaining in the lot, and the woman seated on it, her face hidden by a white helmet.

Cordovin raised her hand in a salute, and the rider responded in kind. _For the good of great Atlas_. A moment later, the motorcycle sped off after the truck.

* * *

"Are you _sure _we can't order a pizza?" Jaune asked.

Weiss came around to the front of the sofa, a glass in her hand, and threw him a disapproving glare. "We've ordered junk food every night you've been here. Would it hurt you that much to vary it up with something that won't slowly kill you?"

"Hey, take that back. Pizza is hardly junk food," Jaune said. "And can't a guy eat what he wants on his vacation?"

"Oh, so this is a vacation to you now, is it?" Weiss dipped her glass to her lips, a little smirk forming even as she raised him an eyebrow. "Whatever gave you that impression?"

Jaune stared at her for a moment, his eyes blanking as if he were trying to come up with the right response for that question, before he smiled and shrugged. "Probably the great weather!"

Weiss wiped her mouth with her wrist, holding back a laugh. That had been a decent enough save, she supposed – though it would have been all the more effective if it weren't positively freezing outside.

"Alright…" she said, feigning a sigh. "I suppose we can have pizza, if it'll make you happy."

"Great! You're such a kind girlfriend, Weiss," Jaune said. "And not even a fake one anymore."

Weiss raised her chin a bit. "I am pretty great, yes."

Jaune nodded at her, then returned his attention to his laptop. Weiss took out her Scroll.

"I don't suppose you've done any research on where to order from?" she asked.

"Not really," Jaune said distractedly. "I trust your judgment."

Weiss made a noncommittal noise and started looking into nearby pizzerias, though she only paid half attention to her Scroll, her eyes flitting to Jaune on occasion. It was getting late, and soon the both of them would be retiring to bed, and though Weiss was loath to admit it, she was starting to feel a little nervous about that.

"So," she said, trying to sound casual. "About sleeping arrangements."

Jaune's only reply was a slight grunt.

"I know last night was exciting, _but_…" Weiss cleared her throat. "I think it would be wise for us not to repeat that so soon. And I don't think we can be trusted to sleep in the same bed yet. You've found the guest bedroom perfectly agreeable so far, so…"

She waited for an answer, but Jaune remained silent. Weiss couldn't be sure if he had even heard her, his eyes flickering up and down whatever document he was reading.

"I mean, we could _try_ sleeping together, I guess. For the sake of experimentation," Weiss said. "But we wouldn't be _sleeping together_, understand? We'd be sleeping in the same bedroom. And the same bed. Together, but only so far as in the proximity of our-"

She stopped herself short, realizing she was starting to sound like Ruby, if a little more eloquent. Weiss gave a little sigh, then put her glass on the table and turned towards Jaune, hands on her hips.

"Are you even listening to me?" she said. "We're supposed to be communicating. I can only do so much if you won't…"

Weiss trailed off, noticing the troubled expression on Jaune's face. She brought a hand to her lips, worrying that she might have been a tad too snappy with him just now. And that would be just like her, wouldn't it, to ruin things in the span of less than a day.

"I think…" Jaune said, his voice eerily quiet. "I think I found something."

Weiss blinked. "What?"

"Who's Corban Coal?"

Weiss all but jumped onto the sofa beside him, and Jaune brought the laptop closer and turned it so she could see too. He had a document open. Weiss read through it quickly, though she was too frenzied to get a proper grasp of it.

"This isn't from the SDC, is it?" Jaune said. "That emblem there. It's Atlas Military, right?"

"It would appear so," Weiss said. "But why would…"

She shook her head, then read the document through again, more attentively this time. It was an official order from the Atlas Military, that much was clear, directing the SDC to turn over one _Corban Coal_'s research. Research on…

Weiss leaned away from the computer, feeling sick all of a sudden. "How… how old is this document exactly, Jaune?"

"Twenty-three years," Jaune said. "The data was buried real deep, too. It was almost impossible to restore it all."

"This can't be right," Weiss said. "I wasn't even born then. Winter – she couldn't have unlocked her Semblance yet. I was twelve when she did. My father couldn't have known…"

"Unless he _did_ know," Jaune said, frowning.

"So all those years, he kept it a secret that he knew about Semblances? And it just so happened that Winter-" Weiss put a hand against her chest and breathed in deep. "This can't be right."

She stood up and walked away from the couch, feeling like she could fall to her knees and throw up at any second. Nothing made sense all of a sudden. Everything was wrong. How could she know that the things around her were real, that the floor under her feet wouldn't give out in a moment of sudden clarity?

Jaune got up too and started to walk towards her, but Weiss raised a hand, stopping him in his tracks. She turned away, holding her forehead in her hands for a moment, before she swept her hair back and swallowed dry.

"Twenty-three years," she said, her voice sounding strange to her ears. "That would make this Corban likely to be Flynt's father. And if he was researching Semblances…"

"Then that would explain how Flynt got one," Jaune said. "Yeah, things are starting to check out, I think. Except we don't know why he'd be angry with your father if it was the army that wanted to take away the research."

Weiss nodded. "What time will they be transferring Flynt, again?"

Jaune glanced at his laptop. "They should have left an hour ago, more or less."

"Good. I can catch up," Weiss said. "You wouldn't happen to know what route they're taking?"

"I… I don't. But I guess I could find out?" Jaune said unsurely. "Weiss, you aren't thinking about-"

"That's exactly what I'm thinking about. I'm going to get some answers, for real this time," Weiss said, moving towards the windows and grabbing her Scroll on the way. "Send me the info as fast as you can!"

Jaune's protests fell on deaf ears as she opened a window and jumped out, creating a glyph three stories beneath her. She landed on it gracefully, and flew away in a blur of speed.

* * *

Flynt rattled his handcuffs, eyeing the soldiers sat across from him with all the contempt he could muster – which was easily a lot. They gave him stern looks in return, though he didn't fail to notice how they gripped their energy rifles tighter in their laps, no doubt nervous about what he would do to them if he could use his powers. And they were right to be.

An hour and more had passed, and he still had no clue where they were taking him. Some sort of prison, obviously, but it couldn't be the regular kind. He wasn't the type of man to be confined by mere metal bars. All he knew was that they'd left the city limits some time ago – he could tell by the relative silence around the truck. Though what road they were on that was so close to the capital and yet so quiet… That was a question to be worried about.

He stretched his neck, trying uselessly to diminish the effects of the damned collar they'd stuck on him. If he could find a way to deactivate it or get rid of it, dealing with these army clowns would be a piece of cake. But that seemed impossible, as even the slightest activation of his Semblance would send an electric shock across his body. Even now, he could feel it humming against his skin, and the sensation was akin to having an insect crawling across his neck.

Perhaps he could power through the shock long enough to knock out the soldiers and make his escape, but he had no reason to believe he wouldn't collapse himself afterward. And the damage that would wreak on his body, likely permanent…

Was it worth it? He had gotten himself into this situation, yes, but that didn't mean he should just accept being tossed into a hole for the rest of his foreseeable future. This was a risk, a stupidly huge risk, but what other options did he have?

Just as he resolved himself to take that leap, the lights inside the truck went out. He heard, more than saw, the soldiers get up on their feet, muttering to each other, and in the next few seconds, the truck slowly slid to a halt.

"What the hell's going on?" one of the soldiers shouted to the front of the truck. "Why are we stopped?"

"I don't know!" the driver replied, frazzled. "The power just died all of a sudden – I'm trying to figure this out, maybe it's a malfunction-"

"Or we just got hit with an EMP! We gotta get out there and guard the truck, we might be getting hijacked!"

"_You_, watch the prisoner!"

The backdoors of the truck were shoved open with a bang, and three soldiers hopped out, rifles primed. The last one remained inside, his eyes going from Flynt to his colleagues outside anxiously.

"_Tch. _Now this, this is just sad," Flynt grumbled. "You fellas can't even get from Point A to Point B without-"

He trailed off, picking up on something strange in his voice. A second later, it hit him – the humming around his neck had stopped. Whatever had happened to the truck, it had also affected his collar.

His first instinct was to shout at the soldier watching him and shove him into a wall, but he held himself back, knowing that a rushed attack would likely end badly for him. His Aura was back, he could feel it, but it wasn't at full capacity – it was slowly but surely restoring itself, but that might take some minutes, and he couldn't afford to tank an energy blast in the meanwhile.

Flynt turned his gaze to his handcuffs, and to the chain links attaching it to the bench. He glanced at the soldier to make sure he wasn't paying too much attention to him, then leaned back and took a deep breath, building up air in his lungs – then bent forward, his mouth aimed at the chain, and _shouted_.

Feeling the power that surged from him was like embracing an old friend. In a matter of seconds, the metal of the chain links shattered, and he jumped to his feet. The soldier, having dropped his weapon to cover his ears, had no time to recover before he slammed his hands across the soldier's face and knocked him out cold.

Flynt jumped out of the truck onto a deserted road. It wasn't cheaply built, but the foliage around it was so lush, this couldn't be any of the main highways across the country he knew of. Regardless, he had no time to contemplate where he was, as he first heard the stomping of the rest of the soldiers returning, and then saw them running towards him from the other side of the road.

Still out of breath, Flynt dove to the side, using the side of the truck as cover as two energy blasts streaked past into the woods, setting the trees alight. He pressed his back against the vehicle, biding his time as the soldiers carefully approached.

"Come out with your hands on your head! Comply, or we will shoot you!"

Flynt wanted to scream at them that they had already tried, and that they could shove their weapons somewhere that would leave a mark, but that would have been a waste of air. Instead, he waited for them to step into his field of view, and then shouted at the top of his lungs, sending them tumbling along the road.

"That's right," he gasped, leaning on his knees. "That's what you get, you buncha-"

A door clicked shut behind him, and he turned around to find the driver standing across from him, rifled raised and aimed at his head. Flynt watched frozen as the weapon vibrated, the energy building inside it manifesting in a green glow. He had no time to shout, and nowhere to run to-

The driver let go of the trigger, and Flynt was showered in the light of a green explosion. He turned his eyes away from the brightness – and a second later realized the absurdity of it. He wasn't dead or injured. How?

He wiped his eyes with his sleeve, then raised his head. A white glyph floated vertically between him and the driver, glowing starkly white. The side of the truck was singed, and the fire in the woods beside the road was roaring into new heights. The driver was on the ground, unconscious.

"How long do you plan to stand there? Get a move on!"

Flynt looked up. Standing on top of the truck was Weiss Schnee, a tempestuous look in her eyes.

"The hell are you doing here?" he shouted.

"What do you think, you idiot?" Weiss hopped off the truck, landing beside him, and conjured an ethereal rapier in her left hand. "I'm here to rescue you, obviously."

She turned towards him, and before he could so much as try to distance himself, raised her arm and twisted her wrist masterfully, slicing his handcuffs. They fell soundly between his feet.

"Why are you rescuing me?" Flynt asked. "Are you actually insane?"

"For someone who just got his life saved, you sure ask a lot of inane questions," Weiss said. She made a glyph a few centimeters off the ground and jumped on it, then spun to face him. "We had best get going before these people call for help."

She offered him a hand, and Flynt thought he'd never been so bewildered. "This is crazy. I'm not going anywhere with you."

Weiss turned her eyes to the sky for a moment, clearly frustrated with him, before she set a steely gaze on him.

"Well, you can either trust me and accept my help, or you can be stubborn and get recaptured in an hour from now, if you're lucky," she said, and shook her hand significantly.

Flynt looked back at the groaning forms of the Atlas soldiers. He could make a run for it now, but how far could he realistically get before reinforcements arrived and caught him? There would surely be a search for him, and the bigger head start he could get, the best his chances of getting home safe would be.

"Fine," he said gruffly, and got on Weiss' glyph without taking her hand. "You Schnee are all nuts."

"Yes, you've made your opinion on my family rather clear, thank you," Weiss said. "Stay still, and you won't have to worry about falling off. And _don't annoy me_."

She flicked her wrist, and they rose high above the road in a matter of seconds, then started floating away swiftly. Flynt looked down at the distant ground, and thought best to heed her council.

* * *

Weiss walked out of the gas station, a cup of hot coffee and a bag of pastries in hand. She looked around and located Flynt standing on the side of the road, nearer to the trees where the lamplights didn't quite catch him. She paused for a moment, the insanity of this situation she had put herself in dawning on her once again, before she shook her head and went over to him.

"Here you go," she said, handing the items over. "I hope you're happy now."

Flynt took a sip of the coffee, then opened the bag and peered inside, like a child evaluating the school lunch that had been packed for them. "Fine enough, I guess."

Weiss rolled her eyes, then crossed her arms and watched as he stuffed his mouth with a slice of cherry pie. He chewed for a while, before he threw her an odd look.

"And you're still here because…?" he asked.

"Excuse me? I'm not going anywhere. Not until we have a real conversation," Weiss said.

"Oh, you want to talk," Flynt groaned. "Shoulda figured."

"What, you blasted my eardrums into oblivion, and you thought I was rescuing you from a lifetime in prison out of the goodness of my heart?" Weiss said.

Flynt made an amused noise with his nose, then took a long sip. "You've got goodness in your heart?"

Weiss pinched her forehead. She should have known he would keep up this stubborn act. It seemed that no matter what she did, he would always see her in a bad light.

"Wonderful," she muttered. "I save your life, and this is the thanks I get."

"I don't know why you're upset, princess. You're the one who deluded yourself," Flynt said. "Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for the rescue, barely, but I still think you're the scum of the earth."

Weiss sighed. A part of her wanted to just leave Flynt there and be done with this whole story. But she had come to his rescue for a reason. She needed answers, and only he could give them to her.

"Look, I don't care if you like me or hate me. What you think of me is inconsequential," Weiss said. "But whatever happened for you to hate my family so badly – I've got nothing to do with it. I'm trying to be better than my father, to correct the wrongs he's done to people. But I can't do that here if you won't tell me what's going on."

Flynt drank his coffee for a while, looking into the distance with a frown on his forehead. As he reached the bottom of the cup, he faced her again, and she didn't know whether he despised or pitied her more.

"You really have no clue, do you?" he asked.

"I know my father did something bad. I know the military was involved somehow," Weiss said. "And I know that whatever it was they did, they probably did it to your father."

Flynt's face twitched, and she thought he might punch her, or worse, scream at her.

"That's as far as I've gotten in my investigations," Weiss said quietly. "Though I hardly needed any confirmation to know my father was the guilty one in this situation." She paused, narrowing her eyes at Flynt. "Physical assaults aside, that is."

Flynt sucked on his teeth, a smirk creeping upon his lips.

"How did you stop the truck?" he asked.

"I… didn't," Weiss said, mystified. "It was already stopped when I got to it."

"Well isn't _that_ convenient," he said, and after a moment, sighed. "Alright. I'll tell you, but only because you've been so annoyingly persistent."

Weiss would have jumped with joy, were she not already bursting with a nervous energy. Finally, the truth!

"My father – Corban – used to be a scientist. He was brilliant, a real stand-out in his field," Flynt said. "For a long while, his focus was on studying rare diseases, trying to find cures for them. But then he stumbled upon knowledge of something few people knew about – Semblances."

"How? Twenty years ago… Knowledge of Semblances was unheard of then," Weiss said.

"More like thirty years," Flynt said. "And he never told me how he found out." He shrugged. "What's important is that he changed course completely, and started to study Semblances. He thought they could be the wonder cure he had been searching for. But he had to keep it secret, because researching Semblances was forbidden back then."

_And it still is_, Weiss thought. She had gotten in a lot of trouble with Beacon because of that, two years ago. Mostly warranted, too, she could see that now.

"Funding was scarce," Flynt said. "Until your father came along and offered to fully back his research."

"He took the offer, didn't he?" Weiss said ruefully. She already knew the answer, but she had to ask.

"He didn't want to. Dad knew the SDC wouldn't do anything good with his research," Flynt said. "But he felt he had no other option at the time. It was either take the funding, or he'd never get anywhere."

His expression became hard.

"Years passed. Dad's research actually turned up results. It didn't take long for your father to start putting pressure on him. He wanted a way to mass produce Semblances, to make a profit of it," Flynt said. "Dad held out. Did everything in his power to deny him. But he'd made a deal with the devil."

"…Apt choice of words," Weiss whispered.

"One day – this was shortly after I was born – your father came up to mine and told him the military was demanding he turn in all his research," Flynt said, his tone growing angrier with every word. "So Dad grabbed me and my mom, got us in the car, and we took off, the brass hot on our trails. We didn't make it far from the city… There was an accident, and my dad barely made it out alive with me in his arms…"

He paused, and the next time he spoke, his voice was heavy with sorrow.

"Mom didn't make it."

"I'm… I'm so sorry," Weiss said. "I don't have the words…"

"Save them." Flynt raised his chin and waved a hand at her, as if brushing off her apologies. "The military must have thought we all died in the wreck. Dad ran away, found us a new home, and he raised me all by himself. And he always told me it was because of the Schnees that my mom wasn't there for me."

Weiss looked away, unable to meet his gaze any longer. She had been expecting a lot, but nothing quite this bad. She had to wonder if, had she been in Flynt's shoes, she wouldn't have felt just as angry as him, to the point of chasing down and attacking the people who'd wronged her. She didn't have any love for either of her parents, but there were other people in her life. Winter, Klein, even Whitley…

"I understand," Weiss said. "You have every right to hate my father. But, why… Why target him? Wasn't it the military who gave the order to-"

"The only way they could have found out about Dad's research was if Jacques Schnee told them," Flynt said, tightening his fists. "It was another play to take it from him. I wouldn't be surprised if he had bought some officers to get his way."

"That… does sound plausible," Weiss admitted. "So that's why you came to the city. To avenge your mother."

"To avenge _both_ my parents," Flynt said. "I wanted to destroy your father's life, just like he destroyed mine's." He shook his head. "It was a mistake. I let my anger get the better of me, and my Dad almost lost me because of that."

Weiss nodded. "Vengeance doesn't mean a thing if you lose what's precious to you in the process," she said. "Besides, you had the wrong approach. My father doesn't love me. He wouldn't have shed a tear if you'd managed to kill me."

Flynt looked at her from the top of his nose, a curious expression on his face.

"That's dramatic," he said. "But I've got a feeling you're right on the money about that."

"Who would know better than me?" Weiss said, and swiftly moved on from that. "Regardless. Is that the entirety of your story?"

"Pretty much, yeah," Flynt said. "Happy now?"

"I am not. Not at all," Weiss said. "But now I know what my father did to your family, and I'll make sure he pays for it. I swear to you, I will make this right."

It would take some work to get all the proper evidence to prove her father's wrongs, but with due diligence, and help from the right people, Weiss knew she could do it. She would ask Flynt to participate, but he had suffered enough already – not to mention that, regardless of his reasons, he _had_ committed crimes which would land him some serious jail time.

"Do me a favor?" Flynt said, and Weiss nodded. "Don't do it."

"What?" Weiss frowned. "You don't want my father to face justice?"

"Oh, I want him to rot in a cell for the rest of eternity!" Flynt said. "But he's already taken enough from my family, and I can't risk us losing even more. So, don't rock the boat."

"But I can't just-"

"You've already done a lot," Flynt interrupted her. "You saved me from my dumb mistake. As far as I'm concerned, that makes us even."

Weiss pursed her lips. She wasn't sure she could rest easy, knowing what her father had done and letting go of it. But Flynt was the victim in this situation, and if he didn't want her to push, then she supposed she had to honor his wishes.

"Okay. I won't confront him about this, or do anything that might put your family at risk," Weiss said. "…But I'll continue to give him hell. That's a promise."

"Hah! Excellent," Flynt said. "I think I had you all wrong, princess. You're not half-bad after all." He smirked. "I can't wait 'til your dad kicks the bucket. You're gonna take his place then, right?"

"That's the plan," Weiss said.

"Good."

Weiss smiled.

"Do you need me to take you somewhere?" she asked. "They're going to be searching for you."

"Don't worry about me. I can find my own way back home," Flynt said. "_You_ might wanna fly back to the city fast, though. Wouldn't wanna be implicated in aiding a violent criminal's escape."

"Right," Weiss said, conjuring a glyph and stepping onto it. "Goodbye, then. And sorry. For everything."

Flynt opened his bag of pastries again and glared at her. "Just get out of my face already, goddamn."

* * *

A hand on his shoulder awakened Jaune with a fright. He jumped and sat upright, rubbing his eyes, then looked up wildly – and was relieved to find Weiss standing before him in the dim lights of the living room, one eyebrow lifted.

"Waiting for my return eagerly, were you?" she muttered fondly.

"Uhm… I wasn't sleeping," he said. "I just had my eyes closed for a prolonged period of time."

"Ah, _that's_ what you were doing, then," Weiss said, nodding slowly. "You know there are more comfortable places to lie down in than my couch, don't you?"

"It wasn't a conscious decision."

Weiss laughed softly, and Jaune realized she'd had a smile on her face since he'd woken up. She was in a good mood, and he doubted it was only because of seeing him.

"What happened with Flynt?" Jaune asked. "Did you two fight? Did he go into an uncontrollable rage and explode?"

"It went… well. I'll tell you all about it in the morning," Weiss said. "For now, I just need to sleep."

"Right! I should get to an actual bed, then… in the guest bedroom, obviously," Jaune said awkwardly, and started to get up.

Weiss pressed her palm to his shoulder and pushed him back down.

"There's enough space for two here, _I suppose_," she said, and laid down beside him. "Don't you agree?"

"Uhm, weren't you _just_ making fun of me for sleeping on the couch?" Jaune said, his heart in his throat.

"I was." Weiss sighed. "Just humor me?"

She turned to look at him, and after a moment's consideration, Jaune gestured agreeably. Delighted, Weiss rolled on her side and laid her head on his chest. He shifted around a bit to get more comfortable, and after a few minutes, she was sound asleep.

_This is pretty swell_, he thought. _I wonder how badly she killed that dude?_


	6. Bitter Dreams of Uncomplicated Matters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't yet, you may want to read Chapter 7 of Tales from the Hunt Tower ("That time Yang taught Pyrrha how to function"), if you're interested in Pyrrha's reaction to some recent "events". But that is purely supplemental and will not directly affect this story, so you may just carry on with this if you wish!

Weiss rolled her eyes as her Scroll buzzed for the fiftieth time that morning. She started to bring her fork to her mouth, adamant to ignore the incessant interruptions, only to groan as another buzz ensued in mere seconds. Grabbing her phone, she swiftly turned off vibrations, then set it down screen-first on the kitchen table. She fixed Jaune with a significant stare over their plates, and he gave a half-hearted grin in return.

"You know, at this point we might as well eat in the middle of the road, cat being out of the bag and all," he said. "I mean, they know we're a thing, what else could they have to say about us?"

"Your mistake is in using normal people logic," Weiss said. "Trust me, these kinds of vultures will take anything they can get out of you, and they'll hover around you for weeks if they have to. It's why they keep pestering me for comments when I've made it transparent I've none to give."

"Alright. You know, we have a little bit of that in Vale, but it's nowhere near as bad," Jaune said. "I guess the novelty of us living there wore off after a while. Also I wore the same hoodie for a week straight sometimes, so I think they didn't like me very much."

"That would put a hamper on fifty percent of their content, yes." Weiss sighed. "I'm used to it, so it hardly bothers me anymore. I'm only sorry you got dragged into it too."

Jaune shrugged. "Comes with the territory, I guess."

Weiss nodded. She'd had half the mind to hunt down the person responsible for taking that first photo of them, and shut down whatever despicable establishment they worked for, but she'd figured that would only give more fuel to the rest of the rat population of Atlas. As it was, all she and Jaune could do for now was weather the storm.

The situation had a bit of an amusing side to it, though. Gossip magazines and paparazzi were the last thing she thought she'd be worrying about after breaking Flynt Coal out of military custody and setting him to his own devises. Every day since then she'd turn on the TV and expect a news bulletin about how he'd been recaptured or 'found dead', but there was only silence on that front.

It was too much to hope for that to last. She knew accusations would be brought against her sooner or later. And truthfully, she was a little disappointed that hadn't happened yet. There was a part of her that was just waiting for an excuse to destroy her father for everything he'd done. But whenever she felt that way, she'd remember the promise she'd made to Flynt, to let all of that go for the sake of his family, and she'd scold herself for thinking such selfish thoughts.

Better to forget about that whole mess. She had plenty left on her plate to deal with already.

"So, I was thinking," Weiss spoke up again. "You're planning to return to Vale next week, correct?"

"Yep," Jaune said simply, before he blinked and raised his hands, dropping his silverware on the table. "I mean, I do, unless you want me to leave right away? I can pack my things!"

"No. None of that, you doofus," Weiss said, holding back a smile. "The contrary, actually. We might be done with the Coal situation, but there's still some stuff I could use your help with. Such as the Colossus my father is so intent on bringing to life."

"That's the giant death robot, right?" Jaune said, and despite the terror he'd so often displayed about such things in the past, his eyes lit up with excitement.

Weiss sighed. "Yes, Jaune. That Colossus."

"I mean, the totally _uncool _giant death robot. Very bad, could get a lot of people hurt," Jaune said, nodding gravely. "Yeah, that seems important. I'm just not sure how I could help you with that?"

"You'd know better than me about that. I'm sure you'll find a way," Weiss said. "And if anything, you can provide moral support."

"I am quite proficient at that, yeah…" Jaune said. He shifted a bit in his chair, then nodded. "Okay, I guess I can stay a bit longer."

Weiss smiled at him. While she did appreciate his continued assistance, that was more of an excuse to keep him around a little longer, something he surely appreciated too. He'd been fairly tense since the rest of team had learned about their relationship, and she could tell just the thought of coming back to the Tower and being around them again terrified him. If she could spare him that misery a little longer, she'd gladly do so.

And, yes, her motivations weren't entirely unselfish. His inevitable departure from Atlas would also mean they'd have to make a final decision about what they were. And _that_ – that was terrifying to _her_.

"Great," she said. "Let's continue to do good work together, then."

And also – and this was very important - she greatly enjoyed getting a proper breakfast made for her every morning.

* * *

As it turned out, her suspicions regarding her involvement with Coal's escape were confirmed that very afternoon.

Returning to her floor after her lunch break, Weiss stepped out of the elevator and immediately saw a familiar trio standing in front of her office's door. Her father was an unpleasant, although unsurprising sight. Her sister Winter, on the other hand, was not someone she'd been expecting to see today – much less General Ironwood.

For a moment, she stood frozen with her foot half-raised off the floor, as she considered turning around and getting back in the elevator. But it didn't take long for her to find her resolve. What had she to be afraid of? They had come all this way just to talk to her, it was only courteous of her to send them packing.

Adjusting her coat, Weiss started walking to her office. As she approached her visitors, she cleared her throat, and they stopped in their conversation at once to look at her. Jacques' face, already set in a scowl, did not change whatsoever. Ironwood stood at attention, as did Winter – though Weiss thought she saw the hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

"Miss Schnee," Ironwood said, extending a hand. "A pleasure to see you."

"Likewise, General," Weiss responded, shaking his hand. She bowed her head to her sister. "Winter."

Winter nodded. "Weiss."

"I was told you two had important business in Mistral, was it?" Weiss said. "What brings you back home so soon?"

"More pressing matters have made themselves known - matters that merit my personal attention," Ironwood said. "I'm sure you've been notified of Flynt Coal's escape?"

"I was told, yes. But if you've come to me because you're worried for my safety, then I'm afraid you've wasted your time and my sister's, General," Weiss said, showing a slight smile. "Flynt Coal won't catch me by surprise twice - _if_ he is foolish enough to try attacking me again. I suspect he learned his lesson the first time."

"We've no doubt you can defend yourself," Winter said. "That's not why we're here. May we talk in your office?"

Winter gestured at the door, at the same time that she shot her a look that was equal parts the protective older sibling's as the officer of the law's.

"Of course, you've come all this way. This must be very important," Weiss said. She turned to look at her father. "And you're here because…? You're aware I'm no longer a child, right? I don't need you sitting in on my business."

"Yes, you're a fully-fledged adult, you've boasted that fact to my exhaustion," Jacques said, rolling his eyes. "But you're also my employee, if that fact hasn't escaped your memory."

"Your _employee_? Please." Weiss scoffed. "I'm the heiress of this company. I represent it better than you do!"

"All the more reason for me to be present for this conversation," Jacques said. He paused, scrutinizing her with his eyes. "I don't understand why the resistance, dear. After all, you haven't got anything to hide, have you?"

Weiss grit her teeth and turned away. The gall of him to speak that way, after the things he was responsible for. She met eyes with Winter for a moment, and saw in her face a recognition that she too was agitated by their father's presence, but also that it would be easier to humor him now. Shaking her head, Weiss opened the door and gestured for her guests to come in.

Her father immediately sat down behind her desk, crossing a leg over the other as if he owned the room. Which he technically did, but that didn't make his attitude any less aggravating. At Weiss' invitation, Ironwood took a seat across from him, and she herself occupied the remaining chair beside him. Winter remained standing, putting her back to the door.

"This is about that rascal Coal, then," Jacques said, leaning on Weiss' desk. "Surely, you have an idea where he's run off to at this point?"

"We haven't caught him yet," Ironwood said. "Any further information regarding the case is confidential."

"Confidential? The man attacked my daughter in plain daylight! He is a danger to myself and the whole company," Jacques said, putting a finger down hard on the desk. "I'm entitled to know any and all things regarding him, and if I'm refused that information, then I will take that to mean that-"

"Jacques Schnee," Ironwood spoke firmly, interrupting him. "I have put my best people in charge of recapturing Flynt Coal. The matter will be dealt with, and you will hear about it the same time as everyone else." He gestured at Weiss. "Your daughter has already expressed that she's capable of protecting herself in case of an attack. If I were you, I would concern myself with staying in her good graces, so that I may enjoy that protection too."

Jacques sat back in his chair and fell silent. His eyes darted restlessly from the General to Weiss, and she couldn't help but grin at his obvious discomfort.

"Now, _Miss Schnee_," Ironwood said significantly, turning to face her. "I'd like to ask you some questions regarding Mr. Coal's escape."

"Ask away," Weiss said. "Though I don't see why you'd think I know anything about that."

She crossed her arms and hunched her shoulders, striving to show just the right amount of indignation. It wouldn't do to spit fire at them out of the gates, or else they'd know she was lying straight away. But she had to be angry – they were making accusations against her, after all, when she didn't know a thing about any of this!

"Five days ago, the night Flynt Coal escaped," Ironwood said. "You were witnessed stopping the transport truck and breaking the prisoner out yourself. You attacked the men guarding him, then flew away with him." He paused. "Is that correct?"

"Is that _correct_? That's madness!" Weiss raised a hand in exasperation. "What reason would I have to rescue Flynt Coal? He tried to murder me, the lunatic!"

"Any possible reasons for your actions do not concern me at the moment, Miss Schnee. Three eyewitnesses still report you at the scene," Ironwood said, unphased. "If not there, where were you the night of the escape?"

"I was home, with my boyfriend. You can ask him yourselves," Weiss said, and grumbled under her breath, "Though he may be a little embarrassed to admit what we were doing at the time."

Ironwood stared at her as if trying to determine the truthfulness of her statement, and Weiss met his gaze unflinchingly. By the corner of her vision, she saw Winter raise an eyebrow and shift her weight from one foot to the other. Her father huffed not-so-subtly.

"I'm afraid your boyfriend's word is not enough to clear such accusations, Miss Schnee," Ironwood said.

"Oh, I see. But the word of a bunch of incompetent grunts is infallible," Weiss said. "They couldn't _possibly_ have failed in their duty. No, a Huntress must have come flying down from the sky and snatched away their charge. What reason could they have to lie?"

Ironwood's stoic expression seemed to break for the first time, as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, his eyes flitting over to his subordinate. Tilting her head, Winter gave him a look as if to say – _what else did you expect?_

"I'll gladly refute any proof you present me, General," Weiss said, raising her chin. "Do you have footage of me helping Coal?"

A moment later, she realized asking a question she didn't know the answer of was not a very wise course of action. She didn't know whether the officers she'd attacked had been wearing bodycam, and if they had, they would have surely captured her in the act. But luck seemed to be on her side, as Ironwood refused to answer her question.

"You don't, then," Weiss said, waving dismissively. "Do you have any idea how Coal _actually _escaped? No?"

"I think we're done with the questioning. You're clear of any charges, Miss Schnee, for now," Ironwood said. "We might contact you again in the future. In the meanwhile, please refrain from interfering with the investigation. If you learn anything about the matter, please contact me immediately."

"Oh, I'll be sure to do that, General," Weiss said dryly. "I trust you implicitly."

Ironwood sighed softly, then gave a curt nod to Jacques and stood up. Winter opened the door for him, and he stepped out into the hallway.

"Sir," Winter said. "Permission to engage freely with the subject?"

Ironwood looked back at her and raised an eyebrow. "Of course. Enjoy your time with your sister. But report back to duty in an hour."

Winter nodded, and the general walked away. As she turned back to look at Weiss, their father made a show of clasping his hands and releasing a deep sigh.

"My, what a _productive_ use of our time, wouldn't you agree?" he said, and gave Winter a significant look. "My daughter, could you be a dear and urge James to put in some real effort this time? Perhaps he could employ some _actual_ tactics to catch our rat?"

"_The General_ will do what he deems best," Winter said, her hands disappearing behind her back. "You will be content with the results of his work."

"Yes, I'm sure I'll be," Jacques said, resting his head on his hand. His eyes turned to Weiss. "And you. Impeccable job deflecting his nonsense. If James and his military goons think they can raise baseless accusations against our company, then they have another thing coming to them."

Weiss trained her eyes on him, her fists curling on her lap where he couldn't see. She wanted to tell him she hadn't defended herself for his sake or his company's, but feared saying too much.

"And this new thing about a… a _boyfriend_. It's not just sensationalist drivel," Jacques said, huffing. "When were you planning to tell me, may I ask?"

"I don't think me being in a relationship is any business of yours, father," Weiss said steely.

"No, I suppose it's not. Well, I wish you all the happiness and good fortune and whatnot," he said, waving dismissively. "Though I must say, the boy must have a will of steel, to put up with you on a daily basis. Let's pray that will last."

Weiss tensed up, a heated response rising to the tip of her tongue before she suddenly lost it. Rising up, she stared down her father, wanting to say something biting to him but never quite getting there.

"Yes, thank you for your invaluable insight as always, Jacques," Winter said, walking over and laying a hand on Weiss' arm. "Come walk with me, sister?"

Easing her shoulders, Weiss gave Winter a tentative smile. "I think I'd like that, thank you."

Jacques stood up too, and Weiss seethed as for a second she feared he was about to invite himself to accompany them, as ridiculous a notion as that was.

"Yes, have a merry time reconvening, you two," Jacques said, fixing his collar. "I think I'll use the opportunity to catch up with the good General. If he won't listen to me about Coal, perhaps I can at least reason with him about… other negotiations."

He shot Weiss a look, and she knew he was talking about the Colossus. She was too tired with him to argue, though, so she put up a blank expression. Almost disappointed, it seemed, he rolled his shoulders and walked out of her office.

"Jerkwad," Winter muttered under her breath, and Weiss nearly burst out laughing.

"I'm glad you're back, Winter," Weiss said. "Being around him is exhausting."

"I know. But we don't have to talk about him," Winter said, offering an arm. "Let's find someplace quiet."

Weiss hooked her arm around Winter's. "I think I know just the place."

* * *

"Well, to be fair. It _used_ to be quite peaceful." Weiss sighed. "And the sight's still nice, at least?"

Winter tipped her head to the side, giving an appraising eye to the horizon before her. The elevation of the plaza certainly gave an ample view of the city, and at the current height of winter, the snow that gathered atop Atlas' many skyscrapers made it appear like a frozen wonderland. Yes, it was quite the view.

Another flash occurred behind them, and Winter glared over her shoulder just in time to catch the intruder slinking out of view around the corner of a building, a camera clutched tight in his hands. She parted a hand from the warm confines of her coat and held it aloft to the side, flexing her fingers as she considered what shape she should make her glyph to inflict the most lasting, _non-lethal_, damage.

Weiss grabbed her wrist and lowered Winter's hand to her hip. "I don't think that's necessary, sister."

"Hmm. Yes, it's not," Winter said, lips pursed. "It would be quite a crude way to deal with the problem." She put her hand back in her pocket, and turned to face Weiss. "If you wish, I can track that man and all his rascal friends down. I cannot imagine their business model is very sustainable. A slight _pressure_ from up high, so to say, and they would find themselves in quite the predicament."

"While that does sound very cathartic – and I'll admit that I've considered doing the same… I think I can withstand a few more prying eyes than usual without resorting to such tactics," Weiss said. "Besides, wouldn't what you're saying technically be an abuse of power?"

"You're not wrong. But I'd like to think I've earned enough goodwill with the General over the years that he wouldn't make a big deal out of it," Winter said. "I suspect he might even commend me for my actions."

Weiss made a face like she couldn't imagine Ironwood doing such a thing. That was fine – Weiss didn't know the general nearly as well as Winter did, after all.

"Do you want to sit down, Winter?" Weiss asked, gesturing to the tables behind them.

"I think I prefer the view from here, now that you've pointed it out," Winter said, leaning against the railings to look down at the city once more. "However did you find this place, Weiss? It seems a bit out of the way for you to have just stumbled upon it one day."

"I fly around a lot these days. The place just caught my eye, so I decided to check it out when I had free time," Weiss said. "It's nice, having somewhere where no one will bother you for a while. Or _it used to be_."

Winter could definitely relate to that sentiment. She often felt suffocated by people's attention, and she didn't live in Atlas. For such a frigid place, its people were awfully nosy, not to mention judgmental.

"You didn't drag me away from work to talk about nice views, though," Weiss said, crossing her arms. "Did you want to get me away from father and the General to question me yourself, is that it?"

"No. Can't I wish to have a couple minutes alone with my sister? Do I appear heartless to you?" Winter said, her voice rising an octave. "…Is it true you have a boyfriend now?"

Weiss covered her eyes with a hand, grumbling something under her breath, and Winter immediately regretted the way she'd phrased that question.

"Yes, Winter, I do have a boyfriend, thank you for asking," Weiss said. "Why, do you want details on how I managed such a feat? I can't blame you, everyone seems baffled."

"No. Please, Weiss, I didn't mean it like that. I'm happy you found someone," Winter said. "I only wish you had told me sooner. You realize you could have called me anytime, right?"

"So I should have scrambled to tell you as soon as it happened? Forgive me, but I never had the impression you cared," Weiss said, crossing her arms. "You've never deigned to tell me about any… relationships of yours. And neither have I ever pried!"

Winter held her tongue. She hadn't realized this conversation would be quite this tricky when she'd first envisioned it. Her intention was simple, but she'd failed to consider that when it came to their family, things were anything _but_ simple.

"Weiss, I don't care if and who you're dating. As long as it's healthy – and I trust you to be a good judge of that – then I'm happy for you," Winter said. "I only asked because…"

"Because you don't _actually_ trust me?" Weiss said.

"Because, our father being who he is, you will hear things from him. Things he has no place saying," Winter said, adopting a sterner voice. "Jacques has no idea what a good relationship _looks like_. You only need to look at our mother to understand that. I'd be surprised if they've exchanged more than a handful of words this year alone. She could drink herself to death and he'd be the last person to know about it."

Weiss frowned. "You don't need to me tell these things. I'm not clueless, Winter."

"I know you aren't. I know you already think of all these things every day," Winter said. "I know that because I lived in your shoes for quite a while, if you'll remember. And what that taught me is that, you can think you know everything, and you _can _know everything, but that still isn't enough. You still have to live through it all every day, and no person is strong enough to be unaffected by that."

Weiss remained silent for quite a while, her entire body tensing. Winter had the image of a snake coiling up before a bite, and she found herself bracing for it, though for Weiss' sake, she tried not to show it.

"Well, I'm happy that you've found such clarity of mind while you were flying around the globe with your marvelous general," Weiss said. "That's good advice, sister. I appreciate it greatly."

She turned away, looking at the city below with furious eyes. They slowly cooled, but even so she refused to look Winter's way. Winter faltered, the memory of a lonely little girl curling up against a wall springing to her mind, and a terrible guilt came eating her up from the inside.

"I-" Winter started, but the apology she intended died before it reached her lips. She squared her shoulders and raised her chin, before she laid a hand on her sister's upper back. "I have to ask you something. Try not to respond angrily. This is in your best interest."

Weiss turned to look at her, and Winter saw any good will she'd earned with her fade away instantly. "I didn't rescue Flynt Coal."

"Well." Winter paused. "It's telling that you didn't even allow me to ask the question."

Weiss stepped away, slapping Winter's hand off her and glaring at her. "You really must think I'm stupid. Why else would you think I'd do something that reckless? Do you take me for a moron? A child?"

Winter curled a fist, her patience coming to a breaking point suddenly. "Well, you haven't listened to a word I've said, so clearly you must be one of the two!"

Weiss stepped back, and with a flick of her wrist, summoned a glyph perpendicular to the floor.

"I think our talk has run its course, _sister_," Weiss said, stepping onto the glyph. "Go back to Ironwood and give your report. My apologies if he finds it lacking."

Winter stepped towards Weiss, but she flew off before Winter could wrap her fingers around a wrist or hand. She watched her sister shrink on the horizon, and for a moment considered getting on a glyph of her own to give chase, but that would only make things worse.

Pinching her forehead, Winter bowed her head and sighed. "Never, ever simple…"

* * *

Jaune entered Weiss' apartment, running the back of his hand against his sweaty brow. His sword, stored safely within its scabbard, hung loosely around his torso, threatening to slip past his shoulder and fall to the floor. He stayed by the door for a moment, catching his breath, and as he did so, he heard a faint note reverberate through the apartment.

Intrigued, he pushed the door closed behind him and stepped leisurely towards the living room, pulling his sword closer to his neck so as to keep it from falling. The echoing notes continued, coming together to form a soft melody that grew louder the closer he came to the living room. When he finally got there, he saw Weiss sat before the piano in the corner, hands gliding across its keys. Her gaze followed her fingers without seeing, the blue of her eyes ephemeral, like the mist that accompanies a cold morning. A full bottle of wine sat atop the piano, beside an undisturbed glass.

Jaune stopped in his tracks, having the feeling that he'd stumbled upon a moment that should have remained private. Weiss didn't seem to have noticed his arrival, and he sought for it to stay that way as he inched backwards, barely lifting his feet off the ground. What little noise he produced was covered by Weiss' music – and the lyrics she sung softly under her breath, which he couldn't quite decipher, but was nonetheless mesmerized by.

The back of his foot met with unexpected resistance, and for a few seconds he swayed dangerously. Luckily, he managed to regain his balance, but not before his sword slipped from his shoulder. He caught it before it hit the floor, but as he raised his head again, he met eyes with Weiss.

They stared at each other, like not only them, but the whole world had come to a sudden standstill – until Weiss spun around in her seat, her fingers darting away from the piano as if it burned her at the touch.

"How long how have you been standing there?" she asked, her shoulders tensing. "I hope you weren't planning to watch like a… a…" She trailed off, eyes narrowing. "Well?"

"I just came in," Jaune said awkwardly, pointing his thumb over his shoulder. "And I _was _going to leave you alone. Sorry."

Weiss stared at him for a moment, and eased up, but only somewhat. "You could have warned me."

"Well, I was kinda surprised to find you here," Jaune said. "Aren't you supposed to be at work right now?"

"I am. But… things came up. I don't think I would have had a productive day had I stayed," Weiss said, looking at the piano accusatorily, as if it was somehow to blame for her woes. "I'm taking a self-imposed break. Just for today."

Jaune nodded, choosing not to pry into that. If Weiss, of all people, thought she was too unfocused to do her job, then he wasn't going to argue. He was curious, of course – but he figured that, if she wanted to talk to him about it, then she would do so at her own time.

"And you?" Weiss said. "The place was empty when I got home. I was almost worried you'd run off on me."

"I was out on my daily jog. I do it every day," Jaune said, and cringed hard. "Hence the daily part. Uhm, I guess you couldn't have known about it, since you're not usually home around this hour."

"Right. And you always take your sword?" Weiss said, glancing at his hand curiously. "That seems an awful lot of unnecessary weight."

"Yeah, it sure makes running, like, five times harder. But that's kinda the point," Jaune said. "Say we're on a mission, killing Grimm, and I have to run a mile to rescue some people. It's not like I can just drop my sword. Unless I wanna fight with just my fists, and I'm no good at that."

"Oh, I see. So it's almost like you're building a resistance?" Weiss said.

"Pretty much. It's regular training at this point," Jaune said. "I'd rather not do it, but Pyrrha insists, so."

He winced. He felt dirty saying the name, almost like he didn't deserve to invoke it out loud. Weiss didn't seem to think anything of it, though. If anything, it was his reaction that appeared to make her uncomfortable.

"Anyway!" Jaune cleared his throat. "You know you don't have to stop playing because of me, right?"

Weiss flinched. "It's not because of you," she said, as if to apologize. "I just… I haven't played for years. Especially with an audience."

"Well, you seemed pretty into it when I got in," Jaune said, walking closer. "If it helps, you can keep playing for yourself, and I'll just happen to be nearby. I'll act like nothing's happening!"

Weiss looked up at him, raising an eyebrow dubiously. "I don't think that would have the effect you're imagining."

"…Right! I didn't mean it like – your music's great!" Jaune waved his hands at her. "Please play."

Heaving a heavy sigh, Weiss turned back to the piano and laid her hands on the keys. Jaune waited without saying a word, intent on being a bastion of patience – but as a whole minute passed without Weiss producing a single note, he couldn't help but grow restless.

"General Ironwood paid me a visit at work today, with my sister," Weiss said suddenly, as if answering a question he'd never even thought of asking. "She works for him, you remember?"

"Oh. Yeah, sure," Jaune said, caught off guard. He put his sword away, leaning it against a wall, and returned to Weiss' side. "And they were there because…?"

"They suspect I was involved with Flynt's escape," Weiss said. "Rightfully so. But it was still very annoying, answering their questions."

"But they didn't find out? 'Cause that'd be some trouble, for both of us," Jaune said.

"No. I managed to persuade them of my innocence, for now," Weiss said. She pressed a key and released it a split second later, shaking her head. "I think Winter knows I was lying. Still, she doesn't have any substantiable proof, so I don't think we need to be worried about that."

"If you say so…" Jaune said, a bit nervous despite her assurance. "Is that why you were too, uh… frustrated, and you came home?"

Weiss eyed him as if considering whether to actually answer him with any modicum of honesty. Her fingers started moving on the piano, and after a few seconds a rhythm came together from her notes. It was nothing particularly elaborate, but that was only to be expected, as Weiss didn't seem to be paying any actual attention to what she was doing.

"Frustrated, at that? No, I couldn't be. Like I said, they're right to suspect me," Weiss said. "I don't blame Winter for doing her job. I've put her in a difficult situation."

"But she wouldn't actually arrest you or anything like that, right?" Jaune said.

"I'm not sure. And I don't intend to find out," Weiss said. "I just… I wish people would put some faith in me, for once. I wish everyone could see things the way I do."

Jaune frowned, feeling as if she'd made a huge jump and he'd blinked and missed it.

"Do you think I was reckless when I saved Flynt?" Weiss asked.

"Uh… Maybe a little bit? You did jump out a window," Jaune said cautiously. "And you kinda interfered with official army business. That's also a thing you did."

"Right. And I'm not saying that was sensible in any way," Weiss said. "But why is that? My father is a criminal, and you don't have to know what he did to Flynt's family to see that. Anyone that's spent any time around him knows it! And yet he's allowed to run his company – his multibillion-Lien company – like he's a respectable businessman!"

Weiss' fingers danced quicker across the keys, a fury emerging from her song, and Jaune almost had to take a step away from the intensity of it all.

"I could bring him down in a day. An hour, even. I certainly have the power to do so," Weiss said. "But, no, that wouldn't be _responsible_. I have to play by the rules. And in the meanwhile, he can carry on doing anything he wishes. Wonderful!"

"Weiss, I… I get what you're saying. Sometimes I wish I could bash some obviously-evil people on the head, too," Jaune said. "But just because we've got special powers and all that jazz, that doesn't mean we know better than everybody else. I mean, the world still functioned before we got here, right? How old is civilization again?"

"Pretty old," Weiss said, quiet as a whisper.

"Yeah! And despite all the injustice in the world, we've survived this far," Jaune said. "Weiss, I'm not saying you should just give up and let your father get away with everything. Of course you've gotta do all you can to stop him. But you can't resort to his level. If you do, you'll be just as bad as him."

"I know. _I know_." Weiss stopped playing and buried her face in her hands. "I just wish things were simpler."

Jaune shrugged. "Don't we all?"

Shuddering, Weiss leaned back, her arms tensing at full length as she laid her hands still on the piano. After a while, her shoulders eased, and she started playing again, seemingly devoting her attention to it this time. The notes came sporadically, but with purpose, for a song of deep melancholy.

"Can I trust you with a secret, Jaune?" Weiss said quietly. "I haven't told this to anybody."

"I guess," Jaune said, hesitant. "If you want to. I won't tell."

Weiss breathed in. "Sometimes… You might think I'm stupid for saying this. Or ungrateful." She paused. "Sometimes, I think about how much happier I'd be if I left all of this behind. I dream of running away and adopting a new name. Becoming someone new. A musician, maybe. I think I could maybe a living out of that."

Jaune was stunned for a moment, this sort of fanciful talk the last thing he might have expected from Weiss. Though the longer he thought about it, the less strange it became, and the more sense it started to make. He blinked and looked at Weiss, and wondered how he'd never gleaned that from her before.

"You're serious about this, aren't you?" he said.

"I think so," Weiss said, and Jaune detected a hint of shame in her voice. "But I'd never go through with it, obviously."

"Why not?" Jaune asked. "It's not like anything's stopping you."

A moment after he'd said it, he realized that _anything_ included himself. It stung, but realistically, he'd meant very little to her until recently. And even now…

"There's a hundred things stopping me, Jaune," Weiss said. "But to keep it simple, I'm a Schnee. I'm my father's daughter. I don't put much stock in fate and all that nonsense, but I don't think I would be what I am today if I wasn't meant to make up for what he's done."

"That doesn't sound fair to you…" Jaune said. "Has anyone ever actually asked you do that? It's not your fault he's your dad."

"This isn't about other people." Weiss sighed. "Look, _maybe_ one day, when I'm fifty years old, I'll get to play the piano for a crowd. Until then, I'll keep doing what I do best."

"…Pissing off Jacques Schnee?" Jaune asked.

"Exactly."

Weiss pressed down a couple keys, finishing her song, then lifted her hands off the piano. She cracked her fingers, then looked up at him, a half-smile coming to her lips.

"This is terrible. All we seem to do lately is talk about my problems," Weiss said. "What about you? Surely, you have a few things you want to work through."

Jaune opened his mouth, only to close it a second later. A myriad of things came to mind, gnawing worries that had been laying mostly dormant since that fateful night a week or so ago. It was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore them. But speaking them out loud after Weiss had bared so much… It didn't feel right.

"You know, I don't think I'm nearly as complicated as you," Jaune said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"_Jaune_. This relationship isn't about me or you, it's about the two of us working together," Weiss said, crossing her arms. "I demand we talk about things!"

"Okay! Maybe later, though," Jaune said, gulping. "We've done enough talking for a day."

He rubbed his forehead, and after a few seconds, noticed the mischievous look in Weiss' eyes. He caught up to what he'd just said a moment too late, as she grabbed him by his shirt and pulled his face close to hers, pressing her lips to his.

For a second, all that Jaune could feel was panic. Despite the way this whole thing between them had started, they hadn't done anything more than a brief holding of hands here and there since then. _This _was a bit of a jump.

Still, now that he had a moment to adjust… It was quite nice. Weiss was a little forceful, perhaps, but he could enjoy that. And with some time, they could find-

"_Blargh_!"

Suddenly, Weiss pushed him away, and he watched in dismay as she wiped her lips with the sleeve of her shirt and spat at the air. After a while, she stopped, and looked at him.

"I'm sorry… But you really need a bath," Weiss said. "Do you realize how sweaty you are?"

Jaune looked down at himself, reacquainting himself with the fact that his clothes were sticking to his skin. "O-oh, right. I'll get right to that!"

"Yes, please do." Weiss sat upright, her hands pressed to her lap, and cleared her throat. "And then we'll see what we can do after."

Jaune had never raced to a shower so fast in his life.

* * *

"Well, you seem cheerful today, sister."

Weiss barely gave her brother any mind as she signed a paper presented by an employee, then sent her off back to her division with a nod and a smile.

"Could it be because you enjoy bossing people around that much?" Whitley said. "That can't be conducive to a healthy work environment."

"You wouldn't know the first thing about a healthy work environment, Whitley," Weiss said, rolling her eyes. "Besides, even if I did enjoy it, bossing people around is technically in my job description."

"Technically you don't _have_ a job description," Whitley muttered.

"Yes, and if you continue to annoy me, I'll make sure you don't have one either!"

Weiss looked down at her tablet. Unless she'd missed something, she was finished with matters on this floor – and in record time! – so, on to the next.

She got into the elevator, followed closely by Whitley, of course. For all his constant pestering, and how trivial he found the work she did – by his own admission – he seemed to be absorbing everything rather well. He _could_ work on that attitude of his a little, but that would come with age, hopefully.

"You still haven't answered my question," Whitley said.

"Do I need a reason to be in a good mood now? Is that a requirement?" Weiss said. "I think you might be projecting, brother. I'll happily point you to a competent shrink."

"For _this_ mood? Yes, you need a reason," Whitley said, and paused for a few seconds to think. "It couldn't be that dumb boyfriend of yours, could it?"

Weiss looked at him in derision. "You think I'm that shallow?"

"Entirely!" Whitley said. "I'm correct, then?"

Weiss bit her lip. "You know what, Whitley? You got me. I am bursting with joy because of my boyfriend. And as much as I'd like to impart on you all the details…" She paused, giving him a perfect smile. "I think we'll have to wait a couple years until you can hear them."

Whitley stared at her blankly for a moment, before he realized what she meant, and his face became a mask of horror and disgust. They reached their floor, and Weiss got off, happy that she'd managed to shut her brother up, if only for a while.

"So, Winter came here yesterday, I heard. What did you two talk about?"

Weiss stopped to look back at her brother. She couldn't quite tell what Whitley was thinking, his expression inscrutable, a practice his father must have imparted upon him, purposely or otherwise. However, she hesitated to think he was trying to pry something out of her, at least not out of Jacques' instruction – he'd been much less subtle when making such moves in the past.

"Nothing particularly interesting. We caught up on things," Weiss said simply. "Why, did you not talk to her too?"

Whitley made a face like she'd suggested something outlandish. "She didn't come to the family home, obviously."

Obviously. Weiss could hardly blame Winter. She herself hadn't stepped a foot anywhere near that house for months, too, and she would keep that streak going well into her old age, if she could help it.

"Did you _want_ to talk to her?" Weiss asked, mystified by her brother's behavior, perhaps for the first time since he'd come to her office asking for her to teach him. "I can call her for you and set something up, if you want."

"No, that won't be necessary," Whitley said, raising his chin. "I was only curious."

Weiss started walking again, her eyes returning to her device, though she now found it difficult to focus on funding requests and progress reports. Thinking of home got her thinking of her mother, and that got her thinking of Whitley having to live mostly alone with her. Their mother had always favored Whitley somewhat, especially once Winter left and Weiss became more involved with the company, but still, Weiss couldn't imagine that being much of a pleasant living…

Sighing, Weiss came to a halt and turned around. Whitley nearly bumped into her, and as she pulled him aside close to a wall, he had a half-concerned, half-incredulous look on his face.

"Why are you doing this, Whitley? Following me around, learning from me," Weiss said. "Is it just because of father?"

"I already told you he didn't order me," Whitley said, scowling. "Do you ever listen to anything I say, or do you just count the seconds until I leave?"

"Right. No. I'm sorry," Weiss said. "But that's not what I was talking about. I know father didn't tell you to come to me to learn about the company. But he didn't have to. So either you came to me because you _want_ to learn, as you say… Or because you felt you have to. Like there's an expectation you have to meet."

Whitley pursed his lips, and she feared he might just walk out in a huff. That would be much easier than talking this out, after all.

"There's nothing complicated about it. I'm just learning what I can about my family's company," he said lowly. "Unfortunately you're the best source I have, or else I'd have gone elsewhere. _Happily_ gone elsewhere."

"Fair enough. But that doesn't answer the question of _why_ you want to learn about the company."

Whitley turned away with a groan. "You're useless today."

He started to walk away, an in a moment of thoughtless action, Weiss grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back to her side. He yelped, and a dozen heads turned to look their way, morbidly curious of what was happening. Weiss let go immediately and held her breath as she looked down at Whitley, suddenly realizing how much smaller than her he was.

She drew back her hand, expecting him to bolt the instant he realized she wasn't going to grab him again. But Whitley remained rooted to the spot, looking up at her with wide eyes.

"Look," Weiss said softly. "Whitley, I'm going to tell you something I wish someone had told me when I was your age." She paused, shaking her head. "No, something I wish I had _listened _to. And I hope you won't be as stubborn and arrogant as I was."

"This company." She gestured around her. "You can make a wonderful life here. You can grow a career. You can even make a good impact on the world, if you want to. But there's _nothing_ chaining you here. Not family, not other people's expectations. Nothing."

"There's a thousand other things you can pursue outside this place. And you _can _pursue them. You're young, you're so smart, and you have resources most people don't have. The choice is in _your_ hands."

Whitley didn't respond, his eyes glued to his feet. Carefully, Weiss put a hand on his shoulder, and after a slight shudder, he looked up at her.

"I don't think father would like it very much if I did something else," he muttered.

"Screw him," Weiss said. "You'll have me."

Whitley breathed out quietly, and that was the only response she got out of him.

"This is my final lesson, for now," Weiss said, stepping back. "If you want to stay with the company, we'll continue doing this. If not, we'll figure out where you go from there, together. Now, as _homework_…" She smiled importantly. "I want you to go home and think about things. Then, come back and talk to me when you think you have an answer."

Rubbing his forehead, Whitley groaned. "Why do you always have to complicate things?"

"It's a specialty of mine."

Whitley muttered something akin to a farewell, and wandered off. Weiss watched him for a moment, before returning her attention to her tablet. A blinking notification signaled a message from her father, and as she read it, her smile slowly faded… Before it boldly returned.

* * *

Weiss walked into her father's office with a confident stride, pushing the door closed behind her without turning to look. Sat behind his desk, Jacques looked up at her as soon as came in, and he showed her a cordial smile, even as his eyes sparkled with ill-disguised scorn.

"My dear daughter. Once again, you've arrived uninvited," he said. "Though I was expecting you to show up even earlier, I confess."

"I'm sorry if I kept you waiting. I just got done talking with your son, you see," Weiss said. "Have _you_ done that recently, by the way?"

"I've been rather busy," Jacques said, and gestured at the chair across from him. "Please."

Weiss sat down, linking her fingers and laying them gently on her lap. She looked upon her father's face, and just like yesterday, felt disgusted and angry at the innocent façade he put up. But unlike then, she didn't find herself having to contain an outburst – no, this was a cold, almost gentle fury.

Showing him anger would only give him power. And she was in control.

"You've set up a meeting with Ironwood and his goons next week, then. About the Colossus," Weiss said. "If you don't want me to meddle, why tell me?"

"I knew you would find out one way or another, like you always do, and involve yourself regardless of my wishes. I figured I would save us both time," Jacques said. "Now, you can go ahead and put your foot down about all the ways you won't let this deal happen, and I will argue with you back-and-forth, and then we will reach a compromise so I can have a proper meeting next week."

"How savvy of you," Weiss said. "Do any such compromises involve you not producing this Colossus in return for my telling you the formula of my Semblance serum?"

For his credit, Jacques did not look at all frustrated. He must have known she would be one step ahead of him already.

"That would be too much to hope for," he said bitterly, and waved a hand at her. "But I will happily listen to your terms. Mine are simple – I will have the Colossus built and sold to the highest bidder, likely our nation's military."

Weiss stared at him for a while, taking in his expression. He looked so confident, as if he was convinced nothing she could say or do could surprise him. Weiss rose from her chair and walked over to a window.

"You know, you're getting older every year," she said.

Leaning on the arm of his chair, Jacques ran a finger over his mustache and raised her an eyebrow. "Yes, that tends to be the natural progression of things. Your point?"

"Just that you're already at an age where you could retire comfortably," Weiss said. "Although, let's agree, you could have done that twenty years ago to the same effect. But that wouldn't have satisfied you."

"I'm afraid your point still eludes me. If you're accusing me of greed or any such foolishness, then what about you?" Jacques said. "If we are being candid here, my dear, you too could work not another day in your life and not suffer for it."

"Life is about more than accumulating wealth and power," Weiss said, turning around. "Of course, you're incapable of seeing that. And that's fine. We can agree to disagree – and that's the one compromise I will make with you today."

Weiss walked back to the desk, but did not sit down. She stared her father down, her hands resting easy behind her back, and watched as his brow furrowed with growing concern.

"We've been at this game for a while now," she said. "I think I'm done playing it."

"What madness are you going on about now?" Jacques said, sitting up tensely.

"Ever since the Paladin incident, I've been toiling to fix your mistakes, putting out fires before you can start them," Weiss said. "I've been doing that because it's necessary. But I won't be doing it anymore, because there's not going to be any more fires."

"This is _beyond_-" Jacques started to rise to his feet, but two glyphs suddenly appeared and pressed him back to his chair by the wrists.

As if he hadn't moved an inch, Weiss continued. "You can remain president. I won't take you away from your little power trip. Whenever you want to leave, that's up to you," she said. "But I'll be making the important choices around here from now on. You can try to oppose me, but I'd like you to think about how much time and effort I've spent clearing your name. Now, imagine what damage I could do if I changed tracks."

She leaned on his desk, and despite knowing better, found herself smiling at the sight of him squirming in his chair.

"That's right. I know who you are, what you've done and are capable of," Weiss said quietly. "But guess what. I save the world from monsters. How could you hope to compare?"

She held his gaze for a moment, delighted by the sweat that ran down the side of his face. With a flick of a wrist, she unmade the glyphs, and he lurched forward in his chair, snarling at her.

"You're nothing more than a petulant child!" he grunted. "Everything you are, you owe to me! And this is how you repay me?"

"Yes. And I thank you very much, father," Weiss said, stepping back. "You can have your meeting next week. You'll have a productive discussion with General Ironwood and his colleagues, but you'll have to inform them that, sadly, we'll be unable to provide them with any new military technologies. I'm sure they'll understand."

Jacques leered up at her, rubbing his wrists.

"Now, if I find out that, for some reason, we still started production on a Colossus… Well, that project might face some fatal disruption," Weiss said. "Furthermore, someone might have to leave the company." She paused. "And wouldn't that be a shame."

Jacques put his hands down, his mouth opening… Before he closed it and pushed his chair away from her, a grimace on his face. Weiss offered him a curt nod, then turned and walked out of the office.

* * *

"_Hello_?"

"Hello, darling!" Weiss said. "You answered fast."

Willing her glyph to turn around the corner of a building, Weiss wondered if she should be referring to Jaune as darling. That felt a little odd, and she thought it still would even if they weren't early in their relationship. Though she supposed there was no harm in trying it out.

"_Uh_, _yeah, I guess - but I'm very busy!_" Jaune said, and Weiss could swear she heard the sound of lasers going off and dinosaurs roaring in the background. "_It's kinda late. Are you coming home any time soon?_"

"I'm on my way. Sorry, I had… a lot of stuff to do at work. Important things, I'll tell you all about them," Weiss said. "Could you be a dear and set up the dinner table? With the fancy plates and everything. They're in a cupboard above the stove."

"_Yeah, sure_," Jaune said, and she heard some rustling as he got up. "_Is there an occasion or…_?"

"It's related to the important stuff I'll be telling you about," Weiss said. "Also, I thought we could have a nice dinner at home."

"_Okay! What are we eating_?"

Weiss glanced at the pizza box under her arm. Not the fanciest meal, yes, and definitely not something she would have normally picked for a celebration, but she'd figured Jaune would like the surprise.

"You'll see when I get home," Weiss said. "Which should be in a couple minutes."

Turning another corner, she arrived at her street and glided her glyph over to her building. She briefly considered coming through a window into her apartment, but even in her current mood, that would have been too scandalous for her.

Weiss lowered her glyph to the ground, and hopped off it to the street. She smoothed out her coat and dress for a moment, then checked the box to make sure its contents hadn't gotten all messed up during all the flying. Luckily, everything seemed to be in a right state.

"Oh, one more thing," she said, pressing her Scroll to her ear with her shoulder as she stepped inside the building. "There's a good bottle we could take out. I can't recall the name, but if you head over to the wine cabinet, I'll tell you what it looks like."

Weiss let the door close on its own behind her and kept walking, but as she took a few steps into the lobby and the lights still didn't come on, she stopped. How strange.

"_I'm there_," Jaune said. "_What am I looking for_?"

"Oh, it's…" Weiss said, looking around. "It's red. Not that big. And there should be a name engraved on the side."

"_Uh, Weiss, they all look the same to me,_" Jaune said. "_Maybe I should wait for you to pick it? Sorry._"

"It's alright. My tips aren't exactly helpful," Weiss said, starting to walk towards the elevator. "I'll be up there in a-"

Mid-sentence, she saw a reflection of white on the floor ahead of her, and started to turn – only to feel something blunt hit her in the small of her back. For a split second, she wondered what the hell that soft tickle was supposed to do – before a shock ran up her spine, causing her to double over and drop her Scroll and pizza box on the floor.

"What the-"

Just as she regained her senses, she felt something pierce past her temporarily-weakened Aura – and sink into the side of her neck. She waved a hand, summoning a glyph, but her whole body shook at once, and the projection fizzled out in an instant.

The needle withdrew from her neck. She heard the lobby's door open and close behind her, but she was unable to turn and look, toppling over, suddenly out of breath. She held her chest, panic rising as she felt something bubbling inside her – a sweltering heat, like she'd been dropped into a lake of boiling water.

She tried to push herself up, but her arms failed her, and her cheek hit the cold floor. Her vision turned white, and during her last moments of consciousness, she heard steps racing down the stairs and Jaune shouting her name from somewhere far away…


	7. Fever Madness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter deals with alcohol abuse and touches on suicide/suicidal tendencies. If you're sensitive about these things, please take care if you choose to read. Much love!

Weiss didn't wake up slowly. She woke up fast, her eyes opening to a ceiling of white tiles. She was lying on a bed that wasn't her own, soft and comfortable, yet as she moved her hand but an inch, she nearly jumped upright in fright. She'd barely grazed the bed with her fingers, and it was like she'd been assaulted with a high-voltage shock.

She pushed herself into a sitting position, resting her back against the support behind her, her nerves flaring at every slight movement. Her arms and legs shook with something like fatigue, or weakness – like she'd been holding up a weight she no longer had the strength to carry. Like something had been lost.

Why did she feel so hot?

"Weiss!" A voice came from beside her. "You're awake! That's good – that's great!"

Weiss looked around, taking in the hospital room, before her eyes settled on Jaune. He looked like he'd just gotten up from his chair, his backpack and Scroll lying on the vacant seat beside him. The expression on his face was strange. He was relieved, clearly so, but there was something else there – sadness, or apprehension, Weiss couldn't be sure.

"That's good," Jaune repeated under his breath, walking over to her side. He looked down at her for a moment, before he took her hand. His forehead creased when he saw her flinch at the touch. "Weiss, how are you feeling? Are you okay?"

"I feel… strange," Weiss said. In speaking, she discovered her mouth and throat were dry, and her voice came out raspy in result. "Am I in the hospital?"

Jaune nodded. "You guessed it."

"For how long? And how did I get here – what happened?"

The answer came to her as she asked the question. Weiss recalled the last moments before she'd woken up - entering the lobby, being assaulted out of nowhere, having something put inside her. She saw Jaune falter, and knew she was right.

"You were… attacked, last night," Jaune said hesitantly. "It's… not been that long. Almost twenty hours now, I think." He put her hand down gently on the bed, and stepped back. "I should go get a nurse. I'll call your sister too. Don't worry, I won't take long."

He walked out of the room in a hurry, grabbing his Scroll along the way.

Finding herself suddenly alone, Weiss was forced to confront the strangeness of her body again. Looking down at her hand, she turned it and ran its backs across the surface of the bed. She shivered at the contact, and as her mind cleared up, she came to the only logical conclusion.

Her Aura was depleted. Completely depleted.

Raising both her arms, she pointed her hands at the far wall in front of her. Her face scrunched in concentration as she tried to conjure a glyph – a single, uncomplicated glyph – but it never shimmered into being as they usually did. It didn't materialize at all.

Weiss lowered her hands to her lap, her heart beating fast inside her chest. There was a simple explanation to this. She was exhausted. Once she regained her strength and got over whatever sickness had been inflicted on her, her Aura would regenerate as ordinary, and she would be able to use her Semblance again. It was only a matter of time.

She thought that, but she couldn't shake the despair that slowly seized her.

The door opened, and in came a nurse, followed shortly by a doctor. Weiss raised her shoulders and put on a tough face as they came to the sides of her bed to examine her, the nurse leaning over to check the equipment monitoring her health.

"Miss Schnee. Good to see you awake at last," the doctor said, adjusting his glasses. "How are you feeling?"

"Well enough, I suppose," Weiss said.

"No dizziness or nausea or anything?"

"No, I don't think so. Maybe I feel a little… fuzzy?" Weiss said. She paused, pursing her lips. "Could you kindly turn down the temperature here?"

The nurse looked at the air conditioner in the corner, and Weiss realized it was already running at a low setting.

"Do you feel hot, Miss Schnee?" the doctor asked, frowning. He looked at the nurse, and she gently put the back of her hand to Weiss' forehead.

"You don't seem to have a fever, dear," the nurse said. "If anything, your temperature is perfect." She gave the doctor a look. "Should I check?"

"Oh, that's alright." Weiss raised a hand. "I think it's just the atmosphere. I don't do well with hospitals," she said. "I'd rather leave soon, if that's possible. Doctor, how is my condition?"

The doctor looked at her with a trouble expression on his face. "I'd like to confirm something first, Miss Schnee," he said. "Your boyfriend said you were… attacked, last night. The nature of what was done to you is unclear, but you passed out, and had to be brought here." He paused. "Is what he said accurate?"

"Yes… Yes, I believe so," Weiss said. "Truthfully, I don't remember much myself. But I know I was attacked, that much is certain."

"I see," the doctor said. "And it's my understanding that this isn't the first time you were assailed physically in recent times?"

"Yes," Weiss said, frowning. "Well. Technically, yes, that is true. But I don't think the two events are related. And I've healed pretty well since. Or I _had_ healed." Weiss shook her head. "I feel fine now. Which is why I want to leave. Again, Doctor, how is my condition?"

The doctor shared a troubled look with the nurse, before he took off his glasses and rubbed his nose, heaving a deep sigh. "As far as we can ascertain, _for now_, you appear to be stable. It's worrying that you were in a sleep state for so long, but otherwise you've shown no signs of injury or disease of any sort."

"Good, then I can leave," Weiss said.

"There are still tests I would like to run, Miss Schnee. Just because you're well now doesn't mean you'll stay that way. The nature of what transpired – whatever was done to you could have a delayed effect," the doctor said, taking her hand. "I strongly advise you to stay here, where you can be watched and taken care of. Just a couple days, until we're sure everything is alright."

Weiss scowled. She knew listening to the doctor was the sensible thing to do, but every minute she spent in this room, the heat running under her heat seemed to grow. She took her hand back and shook her head.

"I want to leave."

The doctor was dismayed at her response, but he seemed to know there was no arguing with her. "Get her ready to leave, please," he told the nurse. "I'll get the release forms."

* * *

Winter stepped off the elevator onto the hospital's fifth floor, a nervous excitement gnawing at the back of her head. She looked around the lobby for a moment, until she saw Weiss signing some form at the receptionists' counter. Standing near her was Jaune Arc, waiting on her with a foot tapping anxiously on the tiled floor.

Winter gave no thought to what she was doing, her legs moving on their own as she strode to her sister's side and wrapped her in a hug. Weiss yelped in alarm, and Winter softened her hold a bit, but that didn't seem to ease her much, if at all.

"Weiss," Winter said, stepping back, her hands holding Weiss by the shoulders. "You're out of your room. Are you feeling well?"

"Yes. I'm… quite fine, thank you," Weiss said, her voice oddly strained. "I'm just signing myself out of this place."

"Already? You just woke up." Winter looked at the form on the counter and frowned. "Weiss, this can't be good for you. You must reconsider."

"I've already given this all the proper consideration," Weiss said, picking up her pen and writing down her signature. "The doctor says I'm perfectly healthy, so I've no reason to stay here any longer. I'm going home."

"Home?"

Winter looked at Jaune. He gave her a shrug, and Winter had the impression that he'd already had this conversation with Weiss, or had tried to, to no satisfactory results.

"Weiss, I understand you might be… frustrated," Winter said, turning back to Weiss. "But you were attacked, in your own home. This is quite a serious situation. You can't walk this off like it's a scratch."

"I'm aware. And I appreciate your concern, sister," Weiss said, turning over to the last page on the form. "But I, more than you, know the limitations of my own body. So please respect me when I say I'm okay."

"It's not your body I'm worried about," Winter said. Weiss gave the slightest pause, her eyes darting to meet hers, before she went on to sign her name one last time and turn the form over to the receptionist. "Though I should be, too. To take down a person of your caliber so easily – whoever attacked you must have employed some truly nefarious means. Aren't you worried that you got off easy, simply passing out? That there might be something lingering inside you? Some kind of poison?"

Weiss waited for the receptionist to check that everything was correct with the form, and upon getting confirmation, nodded graciously and walked away, gesturing for Winter and Jaune to follow. As she turned away from the counter, her face took on a bit of a grimace. She stopped near a wall, far away from eavesdropping ears, and shook her head.

"Whoever attacked me didn't leave something in me," Weiss said. "They took something out."

Winter frowned. "I'm sorry, they took something out? What does that mean?"

"They didn't suck out your spleen or something, did they?" Jaune said, and Winter fixed him with a glare. "Right. Humor, not very appreciated as a coping mechanism in this company." He cleared his throat. "What do you mean, Weiss?"

For quite a while, Weiss was silent, her eyes staring at the ceiling with a faraway look on them. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, rubbing her arms. "They… took my Semblance."

For a moment, Winter couldn't believe what she'd heard. Surely, Weiss had meant something else, or Winter was misinterpreting her. But she saw how Weiss avoided making eye contact, and how tense her shoulders were, and a weight like lead sank in Winter's stomach.

"Wait, you're not saying-" Jaune was the first to speak. He was pale as a ghost, and his hands moved restlessly between him and Weiss. "That's not actually a thing, is it? Is it possible?" He looked at Winter.

"I've never heard of such a thing. But, Semblances aren't exactly a well-researched science. I suppose there's no reason it couldn't happen," Winter said uneasily. "Weiss, are you quite sure-"

"_Yes_," Weiss answered brusquely. She took a deep breath. "Yes, I'm sure. Not only can I feel that my Aura's gone, but I've tried using my Semblance. Several times." She paused, and there was no need for her to say what had been the result of her experiments. "I think I know how they did it."

She took a hand off her arm, and offered it to Winter, palm turned upwards. Winter stared at it for a moment, unsure what Weiss wanted her to do.

"Touch it," Weiss said, and Winter pressed a finger to the middle of Weiss' palm. "It feels warm, doesn't it?"

"Not particularly, as far as I can tell," Winter said.

"Well, it used to be cold. You'll have to trust me on that," Weiss said. "I didn't unlock my Semblance the way most people do, from a moment of need or strife. It wasn't natural. I had to devise a solution – a catalyst, so to say, to trigger the change."

Winter listened attentively, and soon understood what Weiss was getting at. "The formula. You used Dust as a catalyst. Ice Dust, specifically," she said.

"And they sucked that out of you," Jaune said, catching up. "But then, why should that take away your Semblance? I mean, you already went through the change or mutation or whatever. I don't see why you should revert to how you were before."

"Neither do I," Weiss said. "And yet."

Weiss' shoulders slumped, and for a moment Winter thought she was about to burst into tears. But before she got to that point, she seemed to undergo a transformation, her face becoming like stone. Still, Winter could see a lingering sadness in her sister's eyes, and that only made her angrier that Weiss had to endure this.

"Weiss, I'll find out who did this to you, and they'll be lucky to ever see sunlight again. I swear it," Winter said. "Who have you told about how you unlocked your Semblance?"

"Jaune was there. He actually helped me do it," Weiss said.

"Fun times," Jaune mumbled.

"Obviously, he's not responsible," Weiss said. "The rest of the Hunt know the story. But they're in Vale."

"And it's not like any of them of them have a reason to want to harm Weiss," Jaune said, and Weiss nodded in accordance.

"Anyone else?" Winter asked, and she watched Weiss' eyes narrow at her.

"Only you."

Winter fell silent, her hands closing rigidly at her waist. It was all she could do to keep herself from scowling openly at Weiss.

"You can't honestly believe I was involved in hurting you," she said, measuring her words with agonizing care.

"I know you'd never hurt me," Weiss said. "But you're involved with people who might want to. People who might feel threatened by my power and want to take it away." She huffed. "And they succeeded."

Winter opened her mouth to tell Weiss how absurd she sounded, to suggest that General Ironwood would do such a thing, but she stopped herself. Weiss was clearly in distress, even if she wouldn't admit that to herself, and arguing with her would only make her worse.

"Well. I'll get to the bottom of this, regardless," Winter said. "If you won't stay at the hospital, could you at least consider booking a hotel room for a while? I don't like the thought of you returning to the place where you were attacked."

"I've no intention to hide like a wounded animal," Weiss said.

"Then please let me accompany you home. You need someone to watch over you," Winter said.

"I don't need to be coddled like a child!" Weiss snapped, her voice carrying through the lobby. She lowered her head, chin trembling slightly. "I've already got someone, anyway."

Without another word, she turned around and walked to the elevator, calling it to their floor with an iron grip. Winter turned to Jaune, who appeared to be almost as dismayed as her.

"Don't worry," he said quietly. "I'll keep an eye on her."

"Thank you," Winter said. "And please call me if anything happens. I'll always be at her disposal."

"Will do."

Jaune walked over to Weiss, and they stepped inside the elevator. Winter wanted badly to join them, but knowing Weiss wanted space, she stayed behind, as painful as it was.

* * *

Stepping inside the apartment, Jaune almost expected a ghost to spring from behind a corner and lunge at him and Weiss with a syringe. He couldn't for the life of him remember if the loft had always been this silent, or if it was his paranoid imagination preying on him.

Giving a look over his shoulder to Weiss, he adjusted his sword and smiled. He couldn't afford to be freaking out now. Weiss was counting on him, and he owed it to her to put on a tough face.

"So. Home sweet home," he said, walking forward leisurely. "Anything you wanna do? You're probably hungry after all that time in the hospital."

"Yes…" Weiss said. Jaune nodded and started walking towards the kitchen, but stopped when she waved a hand at him. "No, please. I'll… I'll get something myself later. Please don't get worked up about it."

"It's really no trouble. I'm pretty hungry myself, so I was gonna cook something up anyway," Jaune said. "That _something_ may have been instant noodles, but if you're gonna join me, I'll put some real effort into it."

Weiss swayed slightly where she stood, the corners of her lips twitching somewhat, as if she were attempting to conjure a smile but not quite getting there. Her hands hung uselessly at her sides, and her eyes refused to meet his.

"Alright," she said softly. "Thank you."

"Great! This will be my best dinner yet, so you can start holding your breath… now!" Jaune said.

He took another step towards the kitchen, only to remember he still had his sword on him. Removing it from around his torso, he crouched low to lean it against a wall, shooting Weiss a bashful grin, but her attention seemed to be elsewhere already – likely inside her own head.

"Oh, I just remembered," Jaune said, standing up and taking out his Scroll. "The others have been really worried about you. You know, the story kinda got out on its own, so I figured I'd just tell them what happened."

He went silent, and after a few seconds, Weiss realized he expected a response. "Okay. That's fine."

"Okay. And they've been asking about you since, obviously," Jaune said. "What should I tell them? Or do you wanna talk to them yourself?"

"Just… Tell them I'm doing fine now. It was just a scare," Weiss said. "Nothing else."

Jaune nodded. He didn't like the thought of keeping the team in the dark, but he could understand how difficult Weiss's situation was. If he were in her shoes, he wouldn't so soon be talking about how he'd lost his Semblance either.

"You know what? About dinner," Weiss said, her voice much higher all of a sudden. "I think I'll just – I'm gonna lie down in my room. I'm feeling a bit worn out. I'll come eat later if I'm still hungry, but… don't wait on my account."

"Okay…" Jaune said. "Whatever you need."

"Great," Weiss said. She turned around and started walking towards her room, only to stop and look back at him. "You know, if you want to leave, that's completely fine."

Jaune frowned. "Why would I want to leave?"

"I just meant – it's understandable if you want to. You don't have to stay here with me anymore," Weiss said. "I won't hold it against you."

"Weiss, I'm not leaving. Especially not now," Jaune said. "I like you, and you'll probably be going through some tough times for a while, so whatever way I can help you, I'll be happy to."

Weiss turned away, her features twisting in a deep grimace, and Jaune got the impression she'd rather have heard anything else from him.

"Thank you," she muttered, and walked away. Jaune heard the door of her bedroom open and close, and had the feeling he wouldn't be hearing that sound again any time soon.

He sighed.

"Instant noodles it is, then."

* * *

The following days passed at what felt like a crawl, yet at the same time a blistering speed. Weiss didn't once leave the apartment, as well she rarely left her room, only coming out to eat or, more frequently, retrieve a new bottle from her rapidly diminishing cabinet.

It wasn't physical weakness that kept her confined to her room. Her body's newfound sensitivity, as well as the warmth that had replaced the cold, still felt strange, but she was adapting. If she didn't focus on those new feelings, she could at times pretend everything was back to normal – which was quite ironic, because if anything, it was what she'd been _before_ she'd lost her Semblance that wasn't normal.

No, her affliction was of a more psychological and emotional nature, and she couldn't deny knowing where it came from. She'd never realized just how much she relished her Semblance until she'd lost it. It had become a part of her identity, as essential to her person as her name and her talents were. Without it, she felt hollow inside.

Though not completely hollow. There was still much turmoil brewing inside her, and it only took coming out of her room and seeing Jaune for that to become obvious. She could only spend so much time in his presence before she felt a shame sink in like a sudden nausea, and she had to remove herself immediately.

It wasn't by any fault of his. Jaune was being a wonderful guest, and there was no doubt she would be in an even worse state if he weren't looking after her. He was working so hard to be there for her, despite being clearly out of his comfort zone, and a part of her appreciated it. But it only made the shame worse, and she feared if they continued that way much longer, she would be crushed under its crippling weight.

That was the only human contact she had. Winter had called many times, especially the first day, though that lessened when she realized that Weiss wasn't going to pick up. It wasn't that Weiss didn't trust her, but talking about what she was going through with anyone, _especially _her family, was the last thing she wanted to do.

It was easier to lay in bed, eyes facing the ceiling, and wait for tomorrow to come…

* * *

Weiss held the bottle unsteadily, filling her glass until it nearly overflowed, and only then did she pull back and put the cork back in. She put the bottle down on top of the cabinet and raised the glass to her lips, letting the taste linger in her mouth for a while before she swallowed.

She pursed her lips in discontent. This was easily one of the worst wines she'd ever sampled. But bad was better than nothing, she supposed.

Weiss picked up the bottle and turned around, starting back towards her room, only to freeze when she saw Jaune come out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel. They met eyes, and she felt like a deer caught in the headlights, the weight of the bottle in her hand comparable to a ship's anchor.

"Hi," she said, her voice shooting up like a kite. "Good morning."

"Good morning," Jaune replied, and his gaze fell to what was in her hand for split second before it returned to her face. "Yup." He blinked. "Did you just wake up?"

"Yes, just now," Weiss said, conjuring up a smile as she raised the bottle and shook it slightly. "I'm having an early start, as you can see."

"Right…" Jaune said slowly, and Weiss shriveled where she stood, her poor attempt at a joke only serving to make things more awkward. "Anyway. I made breakfast, but you were still sleeping and I didn't wanna bother you. Do you want me to-"

"No. No, thank you, I'm not hungry," Weiss said. "I'll eat later. We can order lunch maybe?"

Jaune nodded, and Weiss nodded in response. For a while, they stood in utter silence in the living room, before Weiss finally cleared her throat and started walking to her room.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Jaune said as she passed him. "Your brother came by earlier."

Weiss nearly tripped over her own feet and tumbled to the ground, so fast she spun around. Jaune might as well have said he'd received a visit from an alien overlord.

"Whitley?" she said. "Are you serious?"

"Yep," Jaune said. "It was kinda awkward. I don't think he likes me very much."

"You're probably right. Don't take it hard, he doesn't get along well with… people in general." Weiss shook her head. "Did he want something?"

"He said he had a message to pass along from your father," Jaune said. "About the Colossus meeting?"

Weiss didn't slap herself in the forehead only because she had both hands occupied. The Colossus meeting, of course – the one her father had told her about the day she'd been attacked.

"Right," Weiss said. "What about it? Are they cancelling it?" That would be some uplifting news after the week she'd had.

"No. Your father just wanted to remind you, since you weren't… you know," Jaune said, gesturing vaguely at the air.

"What, Father was trying to contact me about it? He hasn't called me, not once," Weiss said bitterly. "I'd thought he'd forgotten about my existence."

"Well, apparently he hasn't. Which is good news?" Jaune said dubiously. "Anyway, that was about it. I got the impression Whitley wanted to see how you were doing, but he scampered off when I invited him in." He shrugged. "Weird kid."

Weiss nodded, only vaguely registering that last bit of information as her mind went into a frenzy.

"What are you thinking? You gonna do something about it?" Jaune asked, putting his hands in his pockets.

"What?" Weiss blinked. "Do something about what?"

"The Colossus deal," Jaune said. "You know, that thing you said was stupid dangerous, and that you were going to stop no matter what?"

"Oh."

Weiss walked back to the cabinet, putting down the bottle and her glass. She looked at her right hand, opening and closing it once, and grimaced at the soft feeling of her fingers.

"I'm not sure there's anything I can do to stop it," she said.

"What? I'm sure there must be something you can do," Jaune said, astonished. "There must be a hundred things. You're Weiss Schnee."

"And?" Weiss turned around, scowling at him. "You might not have noticed, _Jaune_, but I've been hiding in my bedroom for a week straight. There's a sore spot on my neck where someone _stuck a needle in it_. A soft wind could blow on me right now and I'd shatter like glass. _Please_, enlighten me about what I could do to stop my father."

Jaune stared at her, his brow twisted in a grave frown, and Weiss thought that might be the moment he'd finally lose his patience with her and walk out. She almost hoped he would. But when he did move, it was only to walk closer to her, stopping with but a few steps between them.

"Weiss, just because you lost your Semblance, doesn't mean you're not _you_ anymore," Jaune said. "You're not useless."

"That's easy for you to say," Weiss said. "You're not the one who has to go through this."

"You're right, I'm not. But do you think I don't know how it is to feel powerless?" Jaune said. "I'm _still _trying to deal with that feeling. It's every day. And it's really hard sometimes. But you haven't seen me give up, have you?"

"You've come close to," Weiss muttered.

"Yeah, well. People have stopped me," Jaune said, throwing his hands up. "You included. Maybe that's the key, right? If we can't believe in ourselves, then we need someone else do it for us."

He put a hand on her arm, and Weiss flinched at the touch. She looked up at him, lips pursed, and fought the urge to break away and lock herself in her bedroom.

"Weiss, you're really smart. Way smarter than me, or anyone I know. And that's saying something, because I know a bunch of smart people," Jaune said. "There's nothing you can't do if you put your mind to it. With or without a Semblance."

Weiss looked away, her anger and frustration lightening somewhat as she was forced to think on what Jaune was saying. Perhaps he had a point. She hadn't become _everything_ she was the moment she gained her Semblance. She had worked hard to get to that point.

"Also," Jaune spoke again. "You can be really scary sometimes. Like with that look you've got on your face right now."

Weiss looked up at him, her eyes narrowing.

"Yup, that's exactly what I'm talking about," Jaune said, smiling nervously. "Maybe I should have kept that to myself."

"Maybe," Weiss said, and paused to think. "Are you suggesting I give my father a stern talking-to so he won't authorize the production of a giant death robot that could endanger millions of people's lives?"

"I mean, isn't that what you normally do?" Jaune said. "Just the stern talking-to part, I mean. And usually with great success!"

"Varying, I'd say," Weiss said. "Alright. I suppose I could try that. Better than wasting my days away in here."

"Great! That's the spirit!" Jaune said.

He smiled at her, and Weiss noticed his hand was still on her arm. She took him by the wrist and gently put his hand down, and stepped towards her bedroom.

"Yes, well, I should start getting ready, then. Wouldn't want to show back up to work looking like a slob," Weiss said. "Thank you for the encouragement!"

"Don't mention it," Jaune said, shrugging. "You did the same for me before, so I'm just repaying the favor. Also, I'd be a pretty terrible boyfriend if I didn't at least_ try_ to cheer you up, right?"

"Right," Weiss said, feeling that shame she was growing so familiar with settling in her belly once again. She all but dove into her bedroom, closed the door behind her, and took a deep breath.

A shower. Fresh clothes. A big, sobering glass of water. And then, to get her life back on track.

* * *

Weiss walked inside the SDC, her steps slowing as she crossed the threshold into the lobby. The place seemed alien to her eyes, like a whole year had passed since she'd last been here. Or maybe it was just her.

The entrance was busy, as it always was, and dozens of eyes fell on her as she made a beeline to the nearest elevator. She straightened her back and raised her chin, putting up a mask of strength, but she couldn't help but feel that they could all see straight through her. The broken heiress returns, trying to stand stall. How precious.

Weiss stepped into the elevator, which thankfully was mostly empty, and pressed the button for the thirteenth floor. She bowed her head and took a deep breath, focusing her thoughts. The most important thing now was putting a decisive end to her father's plans before he could do any real damage. How she felt didn't matter.

The elevator reached her floor, and Weiss stepped off. She took a moment to adjust her coat, and started walking, turning a corner on her way to the conference room – and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw a procession of people walking back the way she'd come. Among them, Caroline Cordovin, with a smile that went from ear to ear.

The captain met eyes with Weiss as her group walked past. "Miss Schnee," Cordovin said in greeting, nodding her head slightly, and kept walking. Weiss watched her pass by, a sense of foreboding coming over her, before she turned around and looked towards the conference room.

Her father was at the door, seeing off a few of his people, but he was not too distracted to not see her standing there. His eyes narrowed for an instant before, to her surprise, he showed her a rigid grin. He gave a nod to the men he was talking to, and they walked away.

He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Weiss marched over to him, gesturing behind her where Cordovin had gone. "What exactly is the meaning of this? Where is that hag of a woman going?"

"Back to her usual place of work, I would imagine. She'll likely be meeting with her superior," Jacques said, his moustache ruffling somewhat as he stared down at her. "She's got reports to make, and it's my understanding she's quite eager to get to it."

Weiss stopped before him, balling her hands. "You've already had your meeting," she said, seething. "What was the point of sending Whitley to remind me of it if you weren't going to wait for me? Is this some kind of joke?"

"But it _was_ my intention to have you present!" Jacques said, putting a hand to his chest. "We did wait for you, but you were running quite late. I assumed you were still… indisposed, so we went ahead and started without you." He raised an eyebrow at her. "Perhaps you had the wrong time?"

Weiss looked away, shaking her head. Of course this was happening. She should have expected it.

"What happened, then?" Weiss said, glaring at her father. She already knew things had gone his way, as he appeared quite smug – though she was sure part of it was at her expense.

"Let's go inside to discuss this, why don't we?" Jacques said, gesturing to the interior of the room.

Weiss walked into the room, being careful not to brush against him. She sat on a chair at the corner of the conference table, and after closing the door, Jacques took his seat opposite her.

"I must say it's good to see you on your feet again, my dear," he said. "I came to see you in the hospital, by the way, but you were still unconscious. I would have visited you after, but I'm afraid this last week has been quite hectic."

"Yes, I'm sure it's been," Weiss said, telling him with her eyes just how little she believed him.

"Well, it has. I had to do some damage control after what happened that awful night. It wouldn't do to have unfounded rumors about you going about, would it?" Jacques said. "I had to pull a few many strings, but the matter is under control now. You can put your mind at ease."

If he expected her to thank him, he could keep waiting. It was the company's image he was concerned about, not hers, obviously.

"The meeting, then," Weiss said matter-of-factly. "I'm assuming you got your precious deal."

"Yes. We've finalized terms with the Army, and we'll be providing them with the first Colossus to ever be built," Jacques said, and his lips parted in a smile, this one quite genuine. "For a great sum of capital, of course."

"Of course," Weiss said, and held her tongue for a moment. There was no point in arguing the morality of the matter with her father anymore – he had refused to listen her so far, and that wouldn't be changing now. "You know this isn't getting off the ground, right?"

Jacques folded his hands on the table. "And by that, you mean…?"

"I'm not the only one who thinks this is wrong. As I've already told you, Beacon has a vested interest in keeping order in the world," Weiss said. "They're not going to let you put that at risk. That, I can assure you."

"You make a good point. I'm sure Ozpin and his people will be hounding me once they hear of this," Jacques said. "But even he has people he answers to, and James Ironwood holds a seat in the World Council. Not only that, he's got quite an influence with his fellow members." He held up his hands. "There'll be a lot of barking from Beacon and many others, I'm sure. But that's all it will be - barking."

Weiss grit her teeth. She shouldn't be appalled by her father's callousness at this point, yet she was anyway. Him and reason seemed to be complete strangers.

They sat in silence for a while, Weiss processing the situation while Jacques watched her with that perpetual smugness on his face. She knew what she needed to do next, but with an uncomfortable heat under her skin, she felt woefully inadequate for it. But she had no other choice.

Pushing off the arms of her chair, Weiss stood up and faced her father. "I'm not going to let you do this," she said. "You're going to call Cordovin back, or Ironwood – I don't care – and you're going to tell them the deal's off. Or else."

Her father leaned away from her, resting easily against the back of his chair. "Or else?"

"I already warned you what I would do," Weiss said. "I offered you an olive branch. You can keep your position, as long as you do what I say. Otherwise, I'll make sure you never touch a foot inside this company again. You're already testing my goodwill."

Jacques chuckled. "Dear, even if I _wanted_ to call this off, I'm not able to. The deal's been made," he said. "And the Colossus has already been built."

Weiss stood in stunned silence, looking at her father in bewilderment. He smiled under her gaze, as if nothing could bring him more happiness than to see her floored.

"You're bluffing," Weiss said. "There's no way. A project of that scale, I would have known. You can't hide something like that."

"Can't I?" Jacques said. "You're quite the arrogant girl, aren't you, and not nearly clever enough to justify it. I've been at the helm of this company for longer than you've been alive, and you thought you could keep me on a leash?"

The missing funds. The evidence had been right under her nose. Wondering what else she'd missed, Weiss realized that all this time she thought she'd been impeding her father's plans, it had been nothing more than an act on his part. They hadn't even been playing in the same field.

"It… It doesn't matter," she said, trying to keep her voice firm. "So you've wasted resources building the Colossus. That only makes it worse for you." She paused. "I'll destroy it myself."

"And how do you plan to do that without your Semblance?"

For a moment, Weiss simply stared at her father, at the smile that grew with each passing second, so conceited and boastful. And then, like a punch to the gut, reality hit her, and she fell back on her chair, her hands limp on her lap.

"You did this to me," Weiss said.

She didn't need him to answer for her to know she was right. Somehow, she realized, she'd always known it'd been him.

Jacques rose from his chair, and Weiss flinched as he walked around the table, stopping at an arm's length from her. She looked up at him, tears biting at her eyes. How was it possible that he could still make her feel so betrayed? It seemed he was always finding new ways to surprise her.

"Perhaps if you hadn't forced my hand, you wouldn't be in this pitiful state," Jacques said. "You did this to yourself."

"Are you saying this is my fault?" Weiss said. She pushed away on her chair, putting some distance between them, but was too paralyzed to do anything else. "What is _wrong_ with you? You're a monster! How can you be so – so-"

She saw him continue to smile at her, unaffected by her insults, and her voice failed her. He straightened up, linking his hands behind his back, and shook his head at her.

"As annoying as you were, I was willing to let you do as you pleased. It was a trade-off, you see," Jacques said. "You were working so industriously to change this company. You were hardly making any difference, of course, but that didn't matter. People adore this sort of story – the prodigious daughter making up for her father's evil deeds." He scoffed. "The optics were worth it."

Weiss sank on her chair.

"You were a valuable asset. But then you had to grow bold, didn't you? Making demands, _threatening me_," Jacques said, his smile turning into a scowl. "I was already tolerating a lot from you. But that – that was too much. Something had to be done."

"Liar." Weiss clenched her fists. "You were just waiting for a reason to do this. You were _happy to_."

"Well… Yes." Jacques chuckled. "But only because you deserved it, dear. And, let's be honest here, you are better off this way. It was only a matter of time before you got yourself into some real trouble. Why, you could have even gotten yourself killed with all that Huntress nonsense."

He reached forward to brush his fingers on her cheek, but she stood up suddenly and stumbled away, nearly knocking her chair over.

"Don't _touch me_!" she exclaimed, slapping his hand away. "I swear, you're not going to get away with this. I won't let you! You think I need my Semblance to ruin you? I know things that would put you to rot in a cell for the rest of your life. You're going to _wish_ I had-"

Her speech was cut short by a breathless whimper as he grabbed her by the wrist and forced her back onto her chair, holding her down with a hand on her shoulder.

"You're not going to do anything. You can't _do_ anything. You think you're some sort of genius, but everything you are came from me," he said, lowering his face close to hers. "Remind me, how did you make that amazing serum of yours? It wasn't all by yourself, was it? No, _someone _nudged you towards the idea. And then all the clues and resources were available on a silver platter right in this very company…"

Weiss shook her head. The e-mail she'd received years ago, filled with details about Semblances. She'd once assumed Beacon had sent it to her, but she'd discarded the idea later. With time, she'd forgotten about the matter.

"You're lying," she muttered.

"It took decades to get the research that far. I burned every resource I had to get to that point, and it nearly got me to the end. There was just one step left before completion," Jacques said. "I confess, I didn't think you would be the one to solve it. But I figured, I didn't need someone smart or inventive."

He stepped back, looking down at her with a derisive look on his face.

"Dust. Right into your veins," Jacques said. "Yes. Nothing sparks creativity more than a little desperation."

Weiss stared at him blankly. The world seemed to come to a halt, its colors draining until all that was left was a dull gray, until suddenly, like a mirror shattered, it all started to collapse around her. She leaned forward, hiding her face in her hands, and drew all the strength she had in her – what little of it she had left – to keep herself from breaking down.

_Not in front of him. Please, at least not that._

Jacques drew up a chair and sat down beside her, and with a smile on his lips, said, "Now. Let's discuss your future with this company, shall we?"

* * *

Weiss stepped out of the elevator into the lobby. She stood there for a moment, frozen, before someone politely tapped on her shoulder, and she stepped aside with a mumbled apology.

It was strange. She had expected to fall to pieces as soon as she walked away from her father, but instead she felt… nothing. Or rather, she felt numb. As if anything could happen to her, and no matter how terrible, she could just brush it off. She wasn't sure that was a good thing, but she didn't care much either. It was certainly the more dignified alternative.

She started walking towards the exit, knowing nothing better to do now than to head home, but she slowly came to a stop in the middle of the lobby when she saw her brother walk into the building. Whitley noticed her a second later. He took a tiny step back, his shoulders tensing, before he nodded and approached her.

"Weiss. You're here," Whitley said. "Are you feeling better already?"

"I'm okay," Weiss said. "It was just a scare. Mostly."

"That's great," Whitley said. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking at her uncertainly. "Does that mean you're going back to work?"

"No," Weiss said. "I don't work here anymore, actually."

Whitley frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not the company's heir anymore. You are," Weiss said. "Father more or less disowned me. Not officially. That wouldn't look good, so the story is that I'll be taking some time off because of everything that's happened recently." She shrugged. "In three months, I'll decide I quite liked the change, and I'll make it permanent."

"Oh, that's…" Whitley trailed off. "I'm sorry."

Weiss looked at him, pursing her lips. He certainly looked sorry enough, as if he truly felt bad for her, but there was something off. The way he refused to meet her eyes… And what was he doing here at this time?

"I lost my Semblance," she said suddenly. "That's what happened. Father sent someone to drain the Dust out of me."

It took a second too long for Whitley to react. Weiss looked to the ceiling and scoffed.

"But you already knew that," she said. "You helped him figure it out, didn't you? You saw how the Dust affects my body."

"What are you talking about?" Whitley said. "I don't think you're well, sister. Maybe you should go-"

"Don't lie to me!" Weiss exclaimed. "Don't treat me like an idiot, I know what you did! You wanted this!"

The numbness faded in an instant, replaced by a fury that burned like a fire inside her. It burned at the pit of her stomach, at the knuckles of her hands, at the back of her throat, until she could barely think straight and the world doubled in front of her.

"I was helping you! I gave you my time and I talked to you and I actually thought – Did any of that mean anything to you?" she said, her voice drawing the attention of the people around them. "How could you betray me like that? You did this to me!"

"I didn't do anything!" Whitley exclaimed. He looked around, and when he spoke again, only she could hear him. "Look, what – what was I supposed to do? Father asked me! I didn't know he was going to-"

Weiss' hand rose in a blur, smacking him in the cheek and sending him to the floor. The noise carried throughout the lobby, conversations dying immediately as people turned to look.

Whitley slowly gathered himself on the ground, pushing himself up to his knees with one hand while the other held his cheek. He looked up at her, eyes wavering with fright.

Weiss held her hand out before her. It had moved all on its own, her brain a second behind it.

She looked down at Whitley.

"You deserved it," she said. "And you deserve him."

She turned and walked away, leaving the SDC with a buzz of whispers behind her.

* * *

Jaune wiped his forehead with his sleeve as he entered the apartment. He didn't take three steps in before the smell hit him – alcohol and… something else? He covered his nose, dropped his sword near the entrance, and went to the living room.

He saw Weiss kneeling on the floor beside the desk, a collection of papers and containers and flasks and all sorts of equipment spread before her. She moved with a frenzied energy, checking notes and writing down new ones. She had two glasses beside her, one of them shattered, and a nearly empty wine bottle laying on its side on the floor.

For a moment, Jaune didn't know what to do, a panic taking hold of him as he took in the sight before him. Then he saw Weiss pick up her glass and drink down half of its content in one go, and he moved at once, grabbing the bottle off the floor and walking around the table to face Weiss.

"Oh, great! It's you!" Weiss said loudly, putting down her glass and clapping her hands once. "I needed an extra pair of hands! You're done with – whatever it is you do when I'm not around?"

"I was just-" Jaune shook his head. "Weiss, what the hell's going on here? What are you doing? I thought you'd gone to work to talk with your dad and stuff!"

"I did do that. It didn't work out very well," Weiss said, and before he could reply, she shut him down with a leisurely gesture. "It's no matter. I'm glad - that's the way things were supposed to go. It needed to happen."

She looked down at her stuff and grabbed a pen, making a quick note, then emptied the rest of her glass. She reached for where her bottle had been a minute before, only to realize it wasn't there anymore. She looked around for a moment, before she saw Jaune holding it, and her face lit up.

"You've got it. Excellent. Care to top me?" Weiss slid her glass over to the other side of the table. "And while you're standing, could you walk over there and grab me another bottle? Whichever you choose - I don't particularly care."

Jaune looked down at the thinning bottle and frowned. "Weiss, when did you start this?"

"I don't know. An hour ago? Half?" Weiss said. "Who's counting?"

"I think you've had enough wine for a week…" Jaune said. He put down the bottle next to him, and flinched at the look Weiss gave him. But something else drew his attention then, and his blood ran cold. "Weiss, is that Dust?"

Weiss looked at the unopened box sitting beside the table and dragged it closer to herself, shooting him a warning look, as if asking if he would try to take that away from her too.

"It's exactly what it looks like," Weiss said. "Now, if you could stop distracting me. I've got important work to do. Either help me, or don't."

"I don't even know what you're-" Jaune paused. "You're making the serum."

Weiss raised an eyebrow at him. "Very observant of you. Though the only sensible alternative was a homemade bomb, which is not really my style."

"You're going to give yourself a Semblance again," Jaune said. "Weiss, that's… that's crazy. You can't do that!"

"And why exactly is that?" Weiss asked.

"Because – you nearly died the first time! They drained you, like, a week ago, and you wanna put Dust inside yourself all over again? Who knows what could happen!" Jaune said. "Why do you even need your Semblance again? I thought we'd established that you were still-"

"We established nothing!" Weiss shouted. "Are you going to help me or not?"

"Are you nuts? No, I'm not going to help you!" Jaune said.

"Then _why _are you here?"

Jaune stepped back, the question striking him like a slap to the face. He looked down at the table, and the wild look in Weiss' eyes, and took his Scroll out of his pocket. As he opened his contacts list, Weiss stood up, fists clenched.

"Jaune. Who are you calling?" she said icily.

Jaune tapped his Scroll and raised it to his ear. "Your sister."

"Don't you-" Weiss started, and moved towards him, trying to snatch his Scroll off his hand, but Jaune grab her by the shoulder and held her at bay. "I swear to God I will make you hurt if you don't put that phone down this instant-"

Winter's voice rang through. "_Arc?_"

"Hi! Yeah, it's me, Jaune," he said. "I kinda need you to come to Weiss' apartment right now."

"_Is there something wrong with her?_" Winter said, concern evident in her voice.

"Yeah," Jaune replied. "It's an emergency."

"_I'll be there soon._"

Winter hung up, and silence reigned in the apartment as Jaune put his Scroll back in his pocket. He let go of Weiss and stepped back, and she glared at him with the intensity of a sun.

"She's on her way," Jaune said.

"I hate you," Weiss muttered. "_Why_ would you do that?"

"Because you're clearly unstable, Weiss! I don't know if you wanna hurt yourself, but that's what was gonna happen with you doing this stuff," Jaune said. "I don't understand what's going on here. Did something go wrong with your dad?"

"That's none of your business," Weiss said.

"Yes, it is! I care about you, so if he did something or – or whatever – then it's my business to know!" Jaune said.

"Oh, right! I forgot! You care _so much_," Weiss said. "I'm sorry, it's just that it's hard to keep things about us straight sometimes. Because one day I'm some unapproachable bitch with a heart of stone, and then the next, I'm an angel and the center of your universe. It's all _very _confusing."

Jaune watched helplessly as Weiss walked over to the wine cabinet and took out a bottle. "Weiss, please don't…" he said. "You're not okay. Let's just sit down and wait for Winter to get here."

Weiss ignored him, getting the cork off after a moment of struggle. She leaned back, taking a long sip straight from the source, then wiped her lips and looked at him from across the room.

"You know," she said. "It's not my fault you can't see what's right in front of you."

"What are you talking about?" Jaune said tiredly, though he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Weiss looked at him for a moment, then leaned back and took another sip. When she was done, she faced him again, and Jaune could swear Weiss had been replaced by another version of herself – like a reflection that had dragged itself out of a twisted mirror.

"I only slept with you out of pity."

She took another sip. Jaune couldn't move or look away – he could only feel his heart shrivel and sink.

"That's not completely true," Weiss said, nodding to herself. "I also did it to feel good about myself. But the two are not unrelated, really. You were just so, what's the word… pathetic, I suppose? I just thought, what you really needed was some confidence. And who better to bestow that upon you than me? After all, I'm _Weiss Schnee_."

She raised her bottle and gestured grandiosely at herself, swaying a bit as she did.

"I should have told you the truth right away, but I just didn't have the heart," Weiss said. "So I guess I'm not perfect, after all."

Jaune looked towards the front door, wanting with every bone in his body to run across that threshold and never look back. He wanted to scream and cry – he wasn't sure which of the two he wanted more – and he wanted to take back the last one month of his life.

He bowed his head, rubbing the corners of his eyes for a while, before he forced himself to look at Weiss again. She stared back, disaffected, the bottle she nestled in her hands now a third empty.

"Are you telling me all of this so I'll leave you here alone?" he said.

"I'm telling you because it's the truth," Weiss said, shrugging. "But also, yes. The door's that way."

"That's not happening. I'm not gonna let you do…" Jaune gestured at the desk. "…that."

"So gallant," Weiss said dryly. "How could I throw away such a gentleman?"

"As soon as Winter gets here, though, I'm gone," Jaune said.

"That's alright. I'm sure your friends will be so happy to take you back," Weiss said. "Who knows, if you tell them what happened, maybe Pyrrha will take pity of you too."

Jaune bit the inside of his cheek, nearly causing a bleed as he kept himself from lashing out in return. He could have – he desperately wanted to – but he knew that was exactly what Weiss wanted him to do, and he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction. She'd humiliated him enough, toyed with him enough.

A part of him understood that this behavior came from a place of hurt. But for the life of him, he couldn't care anymore. He didn't care if that made him a bad person. He was done.

Turning away, Jaune picked up his backpack and started gathering his things from around the apartment.

* * *

Weiss didn't move when she heard the front door open. Something instinctual inside her told her to run and hide, or to get rid of the bottle in her hands and put on a smile. Instead she found herself planting her feet where she stood, pressing her back against the cabinet behind her, like a soldier taking up position before a battle. She raised the wine to her lips again to take a swig, and didn't stop, not even as her sister walked into the room.

Winter took a few imperious steps into the living room, ready to act on an emergency, only to pull back with a wince as the smell of alcohol hit her. She saw Weiss' unfinished work spread across the table, and Jaune sat on the couch next to it, a sullen expression on his face, and paused. Her brow furrowed with confusion and she opened her mouth to speak – before she finally saw Weiss on the other side of the room.

Weiss nearly shrank when Winter's eyes fell on her, and the bottle in her hands, and shame hit her when Winter's face, usually so composed, turned even more confused and concerned and, most of all, dismayed. The shame burned hot, bringing Weiss to a full posture, but so did the growing storm behind her. She lowered the bottle, but only slightly, so with but a short movement she could take another swig, and met Winter's eyes with a challenging glare.

Before either one of them could say anything, Jaune got up from the couch. He slung his backpack and sword over his shoulder, took a look around stoically – though he didn't once look at Weiss herself – and started walking towards the front door. Winter finally took her eyes off Weiss as he passed by her, and spun around, grabbing his arm.

"And where exactly do you think you're going?" Winter said harshly.

Jaune stopped, balking under the force of Winter's gaze. "I… don't know. Away from here," he said. "I, uh…"

"Let him leave," Weiss said, and thankfully the knot in her throat didn't come through in her voice. "He's got places to be. We shouldn't keep him."

Winter frowned at her tone, casting an inquisitive look at Jaune before she let go of his arm. Self-conscious, he straightened his back and adjusted the strap of his sword. For a brief moment, his eyes went to Weiss, as if he wanted to say something to her, before he shook his head and looked at Winter.

"Sorry about… this," Jaune said. A second later, he mildly added, "Good luck."

Without another word, he walked away. The front door opened and closed, and Weiss felt at the same time immensely relieved and distraught. She took a drink, but it only made her feel worse, especially as Winter watched her wordlessly.

After a moment, Winter walked over to the table and crouched to examine its contents. Her expression turned grave as she rummaged through the notes and saw the unopened box of Dust crystals on the side. She stood up, and was silent for a while, before she turned to look at Weiss.

"Well," she said, her voice wavering between anger and distress. "I can only hope you weren't _deliberately_ planning to kill yourself."

"I'm getting my Semblance back," Weiss said, bristling. "That's all it is. I wasn't going to-"

"That's all? You were just going to replicate an experiment that nearly killed you the first time, in your living room, without help from anyone, without the proper equipment and resources. Drunken out of your mind," Winter said. "That's _all_ you were going to do."

"I'm not stupid. I know what I'm doing," Weiss said.

"Yes. Yes, you absolutely do know what you're doing," Winter said. "That's exactly the problem."

Weiss glared at her. "How about we skip to the part where you tell me how disappointed you are in me, and how you expected better, and then I can get back to my work."

"I'm not going to chastise you. I'm trying to understand why you'd do something like this," Winter said, her voice cooling somewhat. "Weiss, I'm only here to help."

Suddenly, Weiss found herself smiling. She brought the bottle to her lips, but couldn't drink from it, a giggle escaping her lips.

"Sure. You're here to rescue me," Weiss said. "That's how it goes, right? I screw up, make a mess of things, but at the last minute, big sister Winter swoops in and saves the day. You fix everything to perfection, then you leave and get back to making the world a better place for everyone." She put a hand to her chest and bowed her head to Winter. "I'm _so glad_ you're here for me, sister. Everything'll be okay now."

Winter didn't say a word, but Weiss could tell she had struck a nerve, and now Winter was truly at a loss. If Weiss weren't so miserable, she would have patted herself on the back for that accomplishment. As it was, there was only one thing she could do…

Weiss leaned back, but before she could bring the wine to her lips, Winter moved across the room with a speed that could only be fueled by fury, and wrenched the bottle from her grasp.

"Fine. You want me to berate you?" Winter said, and she seemed to all of a sudden tower over Weiss. "I _am _disappointed in you. I expect the world of you. But this?" She gestured at the room. "This is embarrassing. And more than that it's sad. This isn't you. You're a brilliant young woman, with a bright future ahead of you and people who care about you, even if you keep pushing them away. Life's hard. You're twenty. Learn to deal with it, and please, do _not_ treat it like it's worthless."

Finished, Winter took a deep breath, and her expression softened somewhat as she stared at Weiss, afraid that she might have gone too far. Weiss looked away, feeling like she'd been swept up in a hurricane and tossed back to the earth in seconds. Suddenly everything seemed much clearer. The beginnings of a nasty headache crept up from the back of her neck, and tears streaked down her cheeks.

"I wasn't going to kill myself," Weiss said meekly. "At least I… I don't think I was going to." She swallowed hard, her breath coming out shakily. "Besides, even if I did, it would be pointless. He'd just take ownership of that too."

"What do you mean?" Winter said. "Who's _he_?"

"Father. Who else?" Weiss said, and though Winter furrowed her brow, Weiss could see she wasn't all that surprised. "I… I had a talk with him today. It turns out that he had the Serum pretty much completed before I figured it out and unlocked my Semblance. He… He was banking on me doing that. But after I refused to share it with him, he still found ways to use that to his advantage. To use _me_."

"Are you sure of that? This sounds like just the sort of lie he'd make up to diminish you," Winter said.

"He wasn't lying," Weiss said surely. "I'm not brilliant. I'm not special. I'm not any of the things you think I am. I've just been his puppet. And now's he's thrown me away, and I'm not sure what I am." She paused. "Right now, I feel like I'm nothing."

"You're not nothing," Winter said. "Don't ever say that about yourself."

Winter put the bottle down on the floor and, to Weiss' surprise, pulled her into a hug. She held her tight, a hand on the back of Weiss' head, pushing her to lay it on her shoulder. Weiss sobbed, and her body revolted at the sudden reaction, her stomach most of all.

After what felt like an eternity, Winter pulled away, though she stayed close, her hands resting on Weiss' shoulders. "Did Father take away your Semblance?"

Weiss nodded. "He was behind it."

"Color me surprised," Winter said bitterly. "Do you have proof?"

"I… He told me. Rubbed it in my face, really," Weiss said, frowning. "Maybe if I… If I had a chance to talk with him alone, I could-"

"Stop," Winter said. "I'll take care of it. You don't need to worry about anything else but getting better, okay?"

Hesitantly, Weiss nodded. The thought that her father might get away with this sickened her, but she trusted Winter to see that he didn't. And though Weiss had suggested she help personally, she wasn't sure she'd be able to come anywhere near that man for a long time.

Winter planted a kiss on Weiss' forehead. "First, you're going to take a shower. Meanwhile, I'll clean up the place. Then, we're going to have to pack some clothes," she said. "I'm taking you home."

"Home?" Weiss said, a cold hand squeezing her heart. "You don't mean the family estate?"

"You need someone to watch over you for a while, and if I'm going to take Father down, I won't be able to always be there," Winter said. "It won't be so bad. Klein will take good care of you. And I'll make sure Father doesn't come to the house until you're gone."

Weiss wanted to say she didn't need to go anywhere, that she would be just fine living by herself in her apartment. This had only been one bad day. But even she didn't believe that entirely. Moreover, she had broken Winter's trust, and that wasn't something that could be fixed with spoken promises.

* * *

By the time they arrived at the estate, the sky had turned dark. The lights from the manor, standing a good distance away from the gates amidst a field of sickly green, shone from a myriad of windows laid across the front of the building, and from the entrance hall itself, the double doors that led inside left open in the night.

They had taken a car ride there. Winter could have flown them across the city on a glyph, but that was hardly something Weiss wanted to experience right now, and that was without taking into account the two bottles she had emptied alone in the afternoon.

They got out of the car shortly after the gates, and Winter gave the driver a generous tip. She then put an arm around Weiss' shoulders and led her towards the manor. Weiss had already felt small as she looked at the house she had grown up in, and Winter's gesture only added to that feeling. Though she supposed that wasn't so bad. Pride be damned, she'd accept any comfort from an honest ally at the moment.

As they walked the road towards the house, Klein appeared in the entrance hall, and a moment later he came out, striding heartily towards them. He met them halfway, his arms spread welcomingly, and a moment later they were wrapped around Weiss in a bear hug.

"My sweet girl! Oh, child," he said as he parted from her and poked her on the nose. "We have got to stop meeting like this. Why do I only get to see my favorite Schnee when something bad has happened?" He shook his head, smiling. "Not that I'm complaining too much. Always a pleasure to see you, Weiss, regardless of the circumstances."

Weiss smiled. It was just like Klein to be able to cut through her trepidation and make her comfortable in a second. Perhaps this wouldn't be as bad as she had feared. "Thank you, Klein. I'm happy to see you too."

Klein wiggled his mustache at her merrily, before he turned to Winter. "Oh, my apologies, I didn't mean to offend, Miss Winter. It's just as much of a pleasure to see you."

"There's no need to apologize, Klein. I know Weiss is hard competition," Winter said. She wasn't as close to Klein as Weiss was, as he'd started working with the family when she was a little older, but she still had fond memories of him.

"Why, I'd almost venture to say you've grown taller, Miss Winter. But I think you've passed the age where that's a thing I'm allowed to say," Klein said. "I think I'll just say you look fierce, then. Powerfully so."

"Thank you, Klein," Winter said, a smile on her lips. A moment later, she added again, in a quieter yet sincere tone. "Thank you."

Klein nodded, and gestured at the house. "I started on a warm meal to greet you with. I'm afraid it's not quite ready yet, but it will be just a little longer. Will you be staying for dinner too, Miss Winter?"

"That sounds wonderful, Klein, but I'm afraid there are some matters I must see to immediately," Winter said. She turned towards Weiss. "I'm going to pay Father a personal visit and lay down some rules. You won't have to worry about him."

"You're going to confront him?" Weiss asked worriedly. "Wouldn't that tip him off that you know what he did?"

"Yes, but he's probably already taken measures to safeguard himself. It'll make little difference," Winter said. "Regardless, your wellbeing is more important than anything."

Weiss didn't even know how to respond to that. Any gesture felt too small to show her gratitude.

"Klein, if Jacques Schnee lays one foot within these grounds, please notify me immediately," Winter said. "I know it's too much for me to ask you to go against your employer. I'll compensate you-"

"Understood, Miss Winter," Klein said. "That bastard won't be laying a finger on your sister."

He mimed taking a shotgun off his back and pumping it, then nodded fiercely. Winter blinked twice, her lips parting in a mix of awe and confusion, and despite everything, Weiss couldn't help but giggle at the scene.

Winter looked at her and smiled, then stepped away, getting on a glyph. Before she flew away, Weiss thought she saw her face light up with relief as she gazed at the manor, but the next moment her face was serious again, and then she was gone.

"Well, I can't leave dinner unattended for much longer. The pans will riot," Klein said. "Not to mention it's chilly out here – and I'm nearly twice your size, so you must be freezing! Let's get inside, shall we?"

"I _wish _I was freezing…" Weiss muttered, but Klein didn't seem to hear her. She shook her head. What was the use in acting miserable? "Klein, just a moment, if you please."

Klein stopped walking to the house to look back at her. "Yes, Miss?"

"I was wondering…" Weiss said. "Do you know why I'm here? Did Winter tell you what happened?"

"Only that it was something bad, and that you needed a place to stay," Klein said.

"Do you wish me to tell you?" Weiss asked.

Klein mused for a second or two, then shrugged. "Not particularly, no. Unless you want to," he said. "Now – dinner! Inside, before we have a Weissicle on our hands!"

Weiss groaned, but Klein only tittered at his own pun and walked towards him. Weiss made to follow him, but something on the corner of her vision stopped her. She looked up, scanning the manor's many windows, before she saw the figure of a person behind a curtain, looking down at her with a glass in their hand.

Weiss stared for a while, a surge of conflicting emotions washing over her – surprise, anger, shame, confusion. She looked away and went after Klein. Her headache, which she had nearly forgotten about, came back with a vengeance as Klein shut the doors of the Schnee Manor behind her.


	8. Like Mother

The place could barely be called a town. It didn't even have a name, as it had never been intended to be anything more than a rest stop along the highway to the northmost reaches of Atlas. Yet services had sprung around it as ambitious folks saw an opportunity to prosper there when they'd found no luck elsewhere, and homes had been built shortly after for the people who made and found work there.

It was a quiet, uneventful place, and the vast quantity of people who passed by and stayed the night meant the locals weren't particularly distrustful of strangers. They minded their own business, for the most part, and they did so happily. And once you became a familiar face, there was a special comradery between the people who chose to endure the harsh cold. That's why his father had decided to lay roots there, more than twenty years ago.

Flynt looked over his shoulder once more as he walked beside the highway, hands on the pockets of his hoodie as he approached the familiar buildings. It had been three weeks since he'd escaped from military custody, and he'd seen nothing that indicated he was being tracked or followed. Still, it paid to be careful, especially when he was so close to home.

Seeing nothing in the perpetual winter behind him, Flynt allowed himself to relax. He turned away from the road before he crossed into the settlement, skirting around the main scattering of buildings. The locals knew him, and even better, most of them liked him, but his face was being shown on the news as that of a violent criminal, and there was surely a price on any information regarding his whereabouts. It was better for him to steer clear of anybody for a while, even friends who'd known him for all his life.

He picked up speed as he approached a ramshackle building near the eastern parts of the place. What once was a family house had already been rundown when his father had claimed it for them, and in the years since it had only become more precarious. The ceiling had tilted to the right over time, though thankfully it had settled a couple years ago. The harsh conditions had worn down the brick walls. It was a wonder the whole thing was still standing.

But it was home.

Flynt reached the front of the house and stood there for a minute, staring at the door in trepidation. Taking a deep breath, he lifted his hand and knocked on the door once, twice, three times. For a while there was no response, and he feared the worst, but then he heard a faint rustling of objects being moved around.

The door opened slightly, and through the crack a pair of brown eyes stared at him. They held him with suspicion for a moment, before realization struck, and the door went wide open. His dad stared at him, and Flynt stared back, wanting to say a thousand things but suddenly struck mute.

When the silence became too much to bear, Flynt finally opened his mouth to utter a simple _I'm sorry_ – but before he could get the words out, his father dropped his cane, crossed into the open air, and wrapped him in a desperate hug.

"My boy," Corban said, trembling. "My boy is back. I thought you were _gone_."

He pulled back, holding him by the shoulders, and Flynt's heart dropped as the enormity of what he'd done dawned on him. If he hadn't come back, his father – this broken old man who walked with a limp, whose left side of his face and arm were marred by scarred skin and veins, who had already lost so much – would have been left all alone. He might never have known what had happened to his only son.

"I'm sorry," Flynt said. "I shouldn't have left."

His father stared at him, tears brimming in his eyes – before he picked up his cane and hit the side of Flynt's knee with it.

"Ouch!" Flynt yelped, hopping away. "What was that for?!"

"Stupid boy! You're damn right you shouldn't have left!" Corban exclaimed, and Flynt had to dodge a repeat swing. "What did I raise you for, so you could run off like a senseless idiot? Bah!"

"To be fair…" Flynt raised a finger. "You were the one who got the idea in my head in the first place."

His father glared at him and grumbled under his breath. He looked away and shook his head, his expression turning ghastly, before he turned around and gestured inside with his cane.

"Get in," he said. "I ain't staying out in the cold for more than a minute, not even for you."

Flynt followed him inside. The front door led directly into the living room, which doubled as a kitchen and hadn't the space to be either of those alone. Coupled with the junk that occupied nearly the entire floor – spare parts, used packages, discarded tools and experiments – there was barely any room to move around in. Flynt had to clear a path with his feet just to get to the table in the center.

He sat down, as did his father, and before they started talking Flynt noticed something odd. At the back of the room was the trapdoor to the basement. Usually it remained closed to curb the earthy smell that came from there, but it was open now, and the lights down there were turned on. Had his father been in the basement when Flynt knocked on the door?

"I really thought you were gone," Corban said, shaking his head ruefully. "When I heard you'd escaped, and then nothing else for days… I thought…"

"I'm so sorry, Dad," Flynt said. "I wanted to get a message to you somehow, but it just wasn't safe. If anyone at all saw me…" He shrugged. "I pretty much walked all the way over here."

"You _walked_?" Corban put his head on his hands. "You… Are you-"

"I'm okay. I know how to take care of myself," Flynt said. "I know that sounds dumb considering what I just did-"

"Yes, it sounds _profoundly _dumb."

"-but, yeah." Flynt scratched his forehead. "At least I'm here now. And I don't plan on ever leaving again."

His father gave him a slight smile, but it couldn't have been more honest and warm. Flynt returned in kind.

An instant later, his father's countenance shifted, his mouth narrowing in what was almost a snarl. His hands went to rest atop the table, curled into fists that shook visibly, and not from the tremble that usually burdened him.

"So, was it worth it?" he said lowly. "Did you make them pay?"

Flynt saw the anger in his father's eyes, that faraway, all-consuming anger that hadn't once been aimed at him, but which Flynt nonetheless knew intimately.

"I… Can we talk about this later?" Flynt said. "I'm tired."

For a moment, his father was silent – and then he blinked, and rose from his chair and walked off to the stove, forgoing his cane in his excitement.

"I'm gonna brew you something to warm you up, and get some food in your belly," Corban said. "When was the last time you had a real lunch?"

"You mean before or after I got free?" Flynt said. "I don't really remember."

"Well, then we've got a lot to make up for!" his father said.

Flynt leaned back on his chair, all the stress he'd been bottling up since he'd left home finally coming loose. He smiled. "Thanks, Dad."

It was good to be home.

* * *

Weiss stifled a yawn as she walked down the stairs to the manor's main hall. The double doors were open, letting in a chilly morning air that sent shivers across Weiss' arms, a feeling that had become all too familiar to her lately. Klein was standing at the entrance, seeing off a delivery worker, with a number of plastic bags on the floor beside him.

Weiss rubbed her arms for warmth and approached quietly, leaning over to take a peek inside the bags, but she couldn't decipher what they held. She waited for Klein to tip the deliveryman and wish him a good day before asking him.

"What's all this, Klein?" she said. "Groceries, I imagine?"

"No, something much more exciting," Klein said. "New seeds for the garden. Quite a lot of them, as you can see."

"You're expanding the garden?" Weiss asked. She thought the garden at the back of the manor had appeared bigger when she'd been looking through the windows of her room, but she'd assumed it was just because it had been so long since she'd last seen it.

"It's an ongoing project. Oh, forgive me, you poor dear."

Noticing how badly she was shivering, Klein pushed the doors until they were nearly closed. A slight stream of cold air remained, but it was much more manageable. Weiss nodded her appreciation.

"Are you going to be carrying these to the back all by yourself?" Weiss said. "This is too much, Klein. Allow me to help you." She started to reach for one of the bags, but Klein grabbed her gently by the wrist and shook his head.

"You shouldn't trouble yourself with these matters, Miss," Klein said. "I might be old, but not so old that I'll break my back doing something so trivial."

"Right. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to undermine your work," Weiss said. "I just want to make myself useful."

"Useful, in your own house?" Klein shot her a bewildered look. "Why, this is a far shot from the lazy girl that I used to know."

"Lazy? Never in my life have I been lazy!" Weiss pursed her lips. "If you won't allow me to help you with this, can't you find some other task for me? I know it's strange, but… I've been feeling cooped up all week. I'm not sure how much longer I can carry on like this."

Klein looked at her with pity, which was about the last thing Weiss wanted to see from him. Not that she could blame him – she _was _a pitiful sight, after all. And rather ridiculous too. Woe was her, the rich girl that her every need and comfort met without the lift of her own finger.

As she stood there despondently, Weiss heard steps coming down the stairs and turned to look. She turned away hastily when she realized who was approaching, her face burning up and a lump forming in her throat.

"Master Whitley!" Klein opened the doors again, and Weiss shuffled away from their direct path. "Your driver is waiting at the gates. Would you like me to accompany you there?"

"I think I can find my way there just fine, thank you very much," Whitley said. He paid a disdainful look to the bags scattered on the floor, and walked straight past Weiss without acknowledging her.

"Have a good day at work, Master Whitley," Klein said, starting to close the doors.

"Yes, h-have a good day!" Weiss piped up. Her voice broke magnificently, and she winced.

Whitley didn't grace her with a reply, but Weiss saw his shoulders stiffen before the doors closed. She was left wishing she hadn't spoken up at all, and not only because of how embarrassed she was.

"Do you think he'll ever stop hating me?" she asked quietly.

"No doubt about it," Klein said. "He's a piece of work, that one, but so are all boys his age. He'll come around eventually."

Weiss wondered if Klein would think the same if he knew what she'd done to Whitley. She'd always been his favorite, and Klein had never seemed too fond of Whitley, but…

Weiss bowed her head in shame and turned away, only to be startled when she saw someone else standing at the bottom of the stairs. Fright turned to dread as she felt her mother's gaze on her.

Her mother, Weiss supposed, had once been a very beautiful woman. And she might still be, except that beauty was buried beneath layers of permanent tiredness and despondence. She had a presence that was at the same magnetizing and insignificant, as if at the snap of a finger she could vanish from existence.

There were a dozen feelings seeing her mother awakened in Weiss. Chief among them, and easiest to understand, was discomfort.

The wine glass she held in her right hand was hard to ignore.

"Ah." Willow turned her gaze to Klein and the bags. "I see the new orders have arrived. How wonderful."

She spoke slowly and with painful deliberation, as if it took all her attention to get a coherent sentence out. All the while she swirled her wine.

"I'll be taking these to the garden immediately, Miss Willow," Klein said, smiling at her. Weiss envied how gentle he always was with her mother. "I suppose you'll want to inspect them soon?"

"Yes. After breakfast, I'd like for us to go over them together. You still have better knowledge of these matters than I do, I must admit," Willow said. She took a sip and nodded lethargically. "Thank you, Klein. Thank you very much."

Klein grabbed a few of the bags and walked away. As he left, Weiss felt her mother's gaze return to her, and she retreated into herself.

"My darling daughter. It's so good to see you," her mother said, showing a tenuous smile. "I've been trying to get a hold of you since you came home, but… it's been a trial…"

"I'm sorry," Weiss said. "I've been busy."

It was a blatant lie, and she knew her mother saw straight through it. But what else was she supposed to say? _Yes, it's been on purpose. I'd rather lock myself in my room for a week than have a conversation with you_.

"So. New seeds." Weiss wrung her hands, eager to move on. "Was the view of the garden getting stale?"

"Something like that," her mother said. "I picked the flowers myself. I like to take a personal approach these days."

A _personal approach_, meaning ordering a truckload of gardening materials from the comfort of her room and then letting the help do all the actual work for her. Or so Weiss assumed.

"Perhaps you'd like to keep me company later," her mother said. "You could even contribute a few choices yourself. Think about it, a corner of the garden to call your own. Doesn't that sound marvelous?"

"It sure does," Weiss said. "But, like I said, I'm terribly busy."

"Oh. That's a disappointment. But I understand…"

Weiss nodded and started walking towards the stairs, but before she could get to the first step, her mother drew her attention again with a cough.

"Darling, I was thinking, if you're not still terribly busy tonight," Willow said. "We could have dinner together. A family dinner, of sorts. You, myself, your brother. And your sister too, if she's available."

Weiss looked back, unsure what to feel. "And father…?"

"Your father, as I understand it, has been temporarily banished from this household." Her mother brought her glass to her lips, all the while looking Weiss straight in the eyes. "I won't invite him, if you won't."

Weiss sighed. It was easy to underestimate her mother, but every so often she would show these flashes of life that would display how brilliant she was. It only made her normal behavior all the more infuriating.

But Weiss hadn't come home to lash out. A dinner with her mother and her brother sounded like a recipe for emotional strife, but she was not going to feel better if she stayed in her room for another week. And at least Winter would be there too, hopefully.

"Okay. We can do that, I suppose," Weiss said. "Do you want me to invite Winter for you?"

"If you could. Thank you, darling," her mother said. "I shall see you tonight, then. Wear your best dress."

Yes, her best dress. One that wouldn't make it difficult to run once things went bad.

"See you tonight, mother."

* * *

General Ironwood was sitting behind his desk when Winter entered his office, an intense expression on his face as he read through a heap of files. She let the door shut by itself and crossed her wrists behind her back, chin raised as she waited for the General to notice her attention. When a minute without either of them uttering a word, she cleared her throat.

"Sir."

Ironwood finally looked up. A tired sigh escaped him, and he sat back in his chair. "Winter. My apologies. I thought a day in the headquarters would be a chance for respite after the month we've had, but it's proving to be even more taxing, somehow." A rare grin coming to his lips. "You would think I'd know that at this point."

"No one can blame you, sir. These last few years haven't been what anyone would call normal," Winter said.

"You have a point. Though I'm afraid they have _become _our new normal," Ironwood said.

"For what's it worth, I think you've adapted admirably. I'm not sure Atlas would have survived quite this well under anyone else's guidance," Winter said. "But I'm assuming you didn't call me to vent about the difficulties of the job, sir."

Ironwood nodded and gestured at the chair across from his desk, and Winter took her seat. He shuffled through his documents, taking out a particular file and pushing the rest to the side so he could open it on the desk.

"I've read your latest report, Winter. I won't lie to you, I'm concerned," Ironwood said, pushing the file towards her. "For clarity's sake, would you fill me in on the details of your investigation."

It wasn't a request. Winter glanced at the file. She didn't have to read it - she'd written the report herself, meticulously so. She wasn't surprised that it had given the General pause. That didn't mean her first instinct wasn't to defend herself, but she pushed that down. He was her superior, and had every right to question her actions.

"I've been investigating the case of Weiss Schnee's assault, sir," Winter said. "As you know, what she suffered was no common attack. Not only was she ambushed in her own home, her Semblance was taken from her. Or rather, the source of it." She paused. The next part was probably what concerned the General. "I already know the culprit."

"Jacques Schnee," Ironwood said, and breathed in deeply. "And you know this because…"

"Because he himself told Weiss. Gloated about it, then all but disinherited her. And she then told me," Winter said. "Now _unfortunately_, her word and mine alone aren't enough to pin the crime on him. We need tangible proof that he was behind it the assault, and that's what I've been trying to get this last week."

"And you've been sparing no resource." Ironwood turn the report to him. "Requesting access to the SDC's databanks, physical records, private information on their every employee." He looked at her critically. "Have you tried shaking the old man down personally yet?"

Winter clenched her fists on her lap. She could understand the General's skepticism, but that didn't mean it didn't sting. Had she not been working tirelessly as his right-hand woman for the last ten years? Did she not deserve _some _trust after all this time?

"Do you not believe me, sir?" she said, keeping her tone even despite it all.

"I believe you fully, Winter," Ironwood said.

"And my sister? Do you not believe her?"

"She doesn't have the greatest track record, but I believe she was honest with you. Winter-"

"Then I don't see what the problem is, sir."

Winter held her breath. She'd never spoken so candidly to the General. It reminded her of the endless arguments she used to have with her father, and she didn't like that one bit.

"If you'll grant me full authority in my investigation, I promise I will have the necessary proof in no less than a week," Winter said. "That's all I ask of you, sir."

"And if you're unable to find evidence on Jacques? How do you think that will reflect on us?" Ironwood said, and raised a hand before she could even open her mouth. "Yes, I know how capable you are. And if this were anyone else we were talking about, I'd gladly set you loose on them and expect a triumphant report at the end of the day. But I know Jacques – maybe not as well as you do – but well enough to know how shrewd he is. Case in point, you've been breathing down his company's neck for a week, and what do you have to show for it?"

Winter hated that he was right. Jacques was arrogant, but he wouldn't have gloated to Weiss without covering his tracks beforehand. At this point, any evidence of his crimes would be buried deep.

"These are fragile times, Winter. You understand that as well as I do," Ironwood said. "We can't afford to stumble. The whole world is counting on us."

"I understand," Winter said, feeling exhausted all of a sudden, and it wasn't even lunchtime yet. "What am I supposed to do then, sir? If you won't grant my request, I'm at a dead end."

"You'll return to the Flynt Coal case. He's still at large, and as heinous as your father's crimes are, Coal is a more immediate threat. The sooner he's recaptured, the safer Atlas will be," Ironwood said. "About your sister, I'll assemble an elite team to handle the case. It might take months, if not years, but they will get Jacques eventually."

"And in the meanwhile, we'll buy a fancy new weapon of mass destruction from him," Winter said bitterly.

Ironwood tapped a finger on his desk, unimpressed. "Better in our hands than his, don't you think?" he said. "Fragile times, Winter."

"Of course. I'm sorry, sir. That was improper."

How to tell him that she wasn't angry at him, but at herself, for carelessly promising Weiss that she would deal with their father? One more disappointment to add to the pile, and she couldn't blame anyone but herself.

But Ironwood was right to take her off the case. She was too close to everyone involved – too emotionally compromised. She was surprised the General hadn't pointed that out himself. Perhaps he hadn't done so to preserve her pride.

"You're excused," Ironwood said. He stashed away her report in a drawer and drew another document from his pile. "You may take the day off, if you so wish."

Winter got up, with Ironwood shooting her a bemused look. She didn't know why he bothered. He knew she was never going to take him up on that offer.

She nodded respectfully and left the office. As soon as she was out in the hallway, before she could start planning the rest of her day, her phone buzzed twice in quick succession. She took it out and saw two messages from Weiss.

_I'm having dinner with Mother tonight._

_And Whitley._

There was a long pause, before a third message came in.

_Could you come too?_

Winter could feel the desperation in that simple question. And despite her own trepidation at the thought of sharing a table with Willow Schnee after so many years, it took her but a second to reply.

_When do you want me to be there?_

* * *

Curiosity got the better of him. Flynt knew he had just gotten home, and the last thing he wanted was to cause his father any more anguish, but there was only so much resting he could do. One would think he'd be exhausted after three weeks of traveling on foot, yet he couldn't seem to lie still for more than a minute, let alone fall sleep. The sense of foreboding that had haunted him since the moment he'd stepped inside the house didn't help either.

The trapdoor to the basement was still open when he returned to the living room. His father was nowhere to be seen. Flynt had heard him shuffle off to his room on the other side of the house – which wasn't all that far, all things considered, but what better opportunity would he get?

He cleared his way to the trapdoor and went down the stairs, treading softly to keep the wooden steps from creaking under his weight. When he reached the bottom, the basement was just as he last remembered it. Much like the upstairs, there was a lot of junk laying around, though ironically, things were infinitely more organized down here. It was out of necessity. You can't run experiments in an environment where one faulty step could send the surrounding square mile into the stratosphere.

One object immediately drew Flynt's attention. It was a metal cylinder, just a bit taller than the average person, standing atop a base built from the same material. A vertical slit indicated where the cylinder might open to allow someone to step inside. Emerging from the base and connecting into the interior of the contraption were a multitude of plastic tubes, empty for now, but thick enough to transport a powerful charge.

Flynt winced. So he'd been right to be concerned. The machine was normally covered with a tarp, but today it was fully exposed for anyone to see… and tinker with. That could only mean one thing: for the first time in years, his father was working on the invention that had nearly taken both their lives.

"I thought I'd find you here."

Flynt turned to see his father wobbling down the last steps to the basement.

"Oh, did you? Did you also want me to see this, or did your mind slip?" Flynt said. "Please tell me this doesn't mean what I think it means."

His father raised his cane and shook it lightly in his direction, unimpressed by the anger in his voice. "What _do_ you think it means? That I was prepared to go to any lengths to get my son back, hmm?"

"That your brain's even more damaged than I thought!" Flynt exclaimed. "How could you be so stupid? You know you barely survived the first time. You were already bad from the accident, and going in there only made you worse! Honestly, what do you think would happen if you stepped inside that thing in the shape you're in today?"

"You're absolutely right, it would have been a very stupid thing to do. But I had no other choice," Corban said. "One day you'll have kids of your own, and you'll understand. I hope you will."

"You think I'd want you to kill yourself trying to save me? Really?"

Corban shrugged, and Flynt could only groan in frustration. He turned away, keeping his eyes clear from the machine. He couldn't even stand to look at it, knowing what his father had come so close to doing.

"I think we can come to an understanding if we acknowledge that we both did very stupid things," Corban said. "Though, of course, I was only stupid because you were stupid first."

"So it's my fault," Flynt grumbled. "Great, that makes me feel much better."

"Well you _did_ run away, didn't you?" Corban said. "I can forgive, but I can't forget. At least not yet. Wait some fifteen years and that problem will fix itself."

"I _thought _I was doing what you wanted," Flynt said. "I mean, can you blame me? All I've heard my whole life is how the Schnees ruined us, how they killed my mom, and that they need to pay. And now that I went ahead and tried, I'm an idiot?"

His father walked past him, stopping in front of the machine. He stared at it, a severe expression his face, and laid a trembling hand on the metallic surface.

"I remember the day I found you in there," Corban said. "One moment I was making lunch, the next the house was shaking and all I could hear was hissing and banging. I flew down the stairs, almost broke my neck. But I was too late, you were already inside. And I thought – I killed him. I got my son killed. You were just _twelve_."

Flynt swallowed dry. He remembered that day like it was just yesterday. He remembered the regret he'd felt when the machine had closed around him, and how frightened he'd been when the space inside started to warp with the Dust. He remembered his skin humming, his lungs burning, the way a whole day seemed to have passed in a second.

And then relief. He'd been forever changed, for better or worse.

"That was the day I swore never to touch this thing again," Corban said. "You survived, but only because you were lucky. Because you were _special_. But you could have died, and it would have been my fault."

"I did it for you, Dad," Flynt said. "You couldn't do it yourself, so I had to."

"You didn't have to do anything. I should have _never_ gotten those ugly ideas into your head," Corban said. "The Schnees were my demons. They should have stayed that way."

His father had given up on the idea of combating Jacques Schnee with the very technology he'd destroyed their lives over, but he hadn't given up on vengeance. Even if he'd stopped talking about it, Flynt knew the hunger had never faded. It would never fade.

"Dad… I almost did it," Flynt said. "I almost got him back for what he did to Mom."

"You did. I saw," Corban said, stilted, as if he didn't know if he ought to be proud. "Almost killed his daughter in front of him. Eye for an eye – very fitting."

"It was a mistake."

Corban frowned, and Flynt flinched, expecting an angry tirade or for the cane to start swinging. But his father seemed conflicted as to what to feel.

"Jacques Schnee is as much of a monster as you always said he was. But his daughter is not," Flynt said. "She's different. She's not, well, she's not an angel or anything, but she's a decent person. And she's trying to make amends for everything her father's done."

"Is that so?" Corban said. "That's very beautiful thinking, son. But how can you trust her? The worst thing about the Schnees is how they disguise themselves as good people, when truly they are devils, all of them."

"Not Weiss. She rescued me. I'd be in prison if it weren't for her."

That seemed to give his father pause. He crossed his arms, a perplexed look in his eyes, as if he were being presented with a reality that simply wasn't possible. "How come you had to come all the way here by yourself, then? She's such a lifesaver, and she just dropped you off to fend for yourself?"

"Well, it's not like we're friends. I did almost kill her," Flynt said, shrugging. "I… explained to her why I did what I did. Told her about Mom, your work, everything."

"You told her?" Corban's eyes grew wide.

"Because she asked, and she wanted to do something about it! She wanted to make her father pay for it all – she hates him almost as much as we do!" Flynt said. "But I told her to let it go. Jacques Schnee still thinks you're dead. I thought it was better for things to stay that way."

His father fell silent. There was no anger in his eyes, no bewilderment about everything he was being told. There was only… sadness?

"I… I suppose you're right," Corban said quietly. "Maybe it is better to let it all go."

Flynt stared at him, stunned. Was he hearing this, truly? After all these years?

"What would we gain from it, anyway. Justice? Money?" Corban shook his head, and looked up at him, a tear escaping the corner of his eye. "It's been so long. And you've grown into a man, a remarkable young man. What was done to us was terrible, but-"

"The past is the past, Dad," Flynt said. "We're here now."

Corban closed his eyes.

A reluctant smile came to his lips.

He sighed, and gestured at the machine.

"Help me cover up this ugly thing, why don't you, son?"

* * *

_I'll be arriving in a minute._

Weiss stood up from the bottom of the stairs, smoothing her dress and taking a deep breath. There was probably a fitting word to describe how nervous she was, somewhere in her deep vocabulary, but she was in no state to search for it. She was, after all… nervous?

Understatement of the decade.

"Miss Weiss?" Klein, busily going about from room to room to coordinate the manor's staff, stopped for a moment to address her. "Is Miss Winter here? Should I go greet her?"

"Thank you, Klein, but there's no need," Weiss said. "I'd like to receive her myself, if that's not a bother."

"Not a bother?!" Klein repeated, his moustache ruffling with the sound. "I should thank _you_. Please excuse me – you can take her directly to the dining room, by the way, the food is almost ready – hey you, a word-"

He ran off after a cook. Weiss sucked at her teeth – the staff was so busy, someone might come in and think a banquet was being prepared, not just a simple dinner for four. No wonder she was stressed.

She headed out the front doors, her skin aching as it came in contact with the chilly night air. It was even worse than it had been that morning. The doors had barely closed behind her when she saw Winter land on the pathway to the manor. Weiss' heart ached as she caught a glimpse of Winter's glyph before it dematerialized.

Winter, to little surprise, had come wearing a white dress shirt and grey dress pants. If it weren't for her hair being done in a _slightly _more elaborate bun than normal, Weiss would have thought her sister had come straight from work. And somehow, in the fancy navy blue dress she'd only worn twice before, Weiss still felt inadequate.

"Sister," Winter said, walking up to the porch. She reached out and took Weiss' hand, a slight smile on her lips. "How are you?"

"Well enough, I suppose, now that you're here," Weiss said. It wasn't that difficult to reciprocate with a smile of her own. "I hope this isn't an inconvenience for you. I know you're very busy these days."

"I am, but when have you known me not to be consumed by work?" Winter said. "I rarely make time for other things."

That _this _– her family, Weiss specifically – was one thing she was willing to bend her usual ways for, was left unsaid, but the sentiment was clear. Weiss supposed that, for all her confidence and poise, Winter was still not used to this level of caring. And seeing as she was no expert either, Weiss couldn't judge her for it.

"It's cold tonight," Winter said. "Shall we head inside?"

"Actually." Weiss put a hand on Winter's arm. "Could you stay out here with me for a moment?"

Winter looked at her, and Weiss felt like her very soul was being yanked out of her body to be examined on a lab table.

"You're anxious," Winter said.

"Well, yes, obviously," Weiss said. "Did you read my diary to find that out?"

"You've never had a diary. If you had, I would have found out about it," Winter said. "I'm anxious too, for what it's worth. It's not like this is my idea of a relaxing evening." She looked at the house, her eyes narrowing as they explored the windows, and what little could be glimpsed beyond them. "I think I haven't had a conversation with our mother since you left home."

"This morning was the first time I talked to her since I got here, so we're more or less on the same boat," Weiss said.

Winter looked at her again, a frown creasing her forehead. "You realize you don't have to do this? Are you quite sure you're ready?"

Weiss withered. Perhaps it would have been better if she'd just taken Winter inside the house right away, after all. At least then she could have avoided this conversation.

"If you're so concerned about my feelings, what made you think dropping me off in this place was a good idea?" Weiss said.

She regretted how harsh she sounded the moment the words left her mouth. Winter had done so much for her - how could she be so dismissive of that? And from the way her lips twitched, Winter appeared frustrated by her response too. Though a second later, she was stoic again. Courtesy of her military training, Weiss supposed.

"Have you ever wondered why I chose the life I have?" Winter asked.

"I… guess I have? But I don't see how that's…" Weiss trailed off, confused.

"I traded a home life where every little thing I did was regulated and scrutinized, where my thoughts and opinions were about as valuable as the dirt under my feet… to a life as a soldier of Atlas," Winter said. "I'm sure that has come off as a _puzzling _decision to you."

Weiss was hesitant to agree, but she supposed it would only be insulting to try to lie to Winter. She _had_ on occasion wondered what had possessed Winter to make such a decision. She couldn't _actually _be content with the life she'd chosen.

"To tell you the truth, it was barely a decision at all," Winter said. She paused for a moment, as if considering how much she wanted to tell Weiss. "I was quite… aimless, after I left home. I had freedom, true freedom, for the first time in my life, and I didn't know what to do with it. And that made me… Well. That made me _volatile_."

Weiss must have had a face like someone had just told her Santa Claus _was _real, and a child-murdering psychopath, because Winter looked at her and laughed.

"I'm sorry to break the illusion sister," Winter said. "Don't expect me to sneak out at midnight to kick the neighbor's mailbox, though."

"You're not being serious right now," Weiss said. "You're not… _Winter_. That's not how you are. You told me-"

"I didn't want you to know about that time in my life. I'm not proud of it, Weiss," Winter said. "But yes, I'm as fallible as anyone. I suppose I'm just that good at hiding it."

Weiss looked away, pouting. If this was Winter's idea of cheering her up, she was doing a terrible job of it. _Fallible indeed._

"General Ironwood reached out to me one day," Winter said, drawing Weiss's attention back to herself. "He knew about my Semblance, and that I was looking for something to make of my life. He offered me a place in the army, and I'm embarrassed to admit it, I latched onto that with barely any consideration."

In the version Weiss had been told, Winter had signed up at a local base, and Ironwood had taken notice of her a few months later.

"I won't lie, it didn't take long for me to start doubting that choice. I kept looking around myself and thinking – am I really coming back to this? This is the same nightmare, just a variation of it," Winter said. "But life got better. I found my place. And yes, I have looked back and wished I had done things differently, but I've never regretted that decision."

She turned to Weiss and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Structure isn't necessarily a bad thing. And the things you think are painful might be exactly what you need," Winter said. "But I suspect you already knew some of that. It's why you're not locked in your room right now."

Truthfully, Weiss didn't know how to feel. The idea that Winter sometimes didn't know what to do was scary, yet oddly comforting as well. As disciplined of a person as Winter was, she was rather forgiving of Weiss' many screw-ups. Maybe she had some personal experience of that kind which she hadn't elected to share.

"Do you ever worry about your job?" Weiss asked. She bit her lip, realizing that was rather vague, but she didn't know how to word her question without possibly upsetting Winter. "General Ironwood doesn't seem like the kind of man to take a liking to just anyone. If you didn't have…"

She trailed off, but to Weiss' relief, Winter wasn't angry. "I'm not naïve, Weiss. I know the only reason the General recruited me was because of my Semblance," she said. "But if that was the only value he found in me, he wouldn't have made me his right-hand woman. And _I_ wouldn't have stayed if all he did was treat me as a weapon to aim at whatever he pleased." She scoffed. "Frankly, that man would be lost without my assistance. He can be a bit of a mess at times."

"I guess you haven't lost the Schnee ego, after all," Weiss said, grinning.

"Said _ego_ is mine and mine alone," Winter said. "…Though I wouldn't be surprised if genetics were involved."

They were silent for a while, standing together on the porch as the night got darker and the breeze grew colder. Weiss couldn't remember the last time she had shared a moment like this with Winter. Never, most likely. Theirs had never been a bad relationship, but things had always been contentious in the family, and once they'd escaped their father's shadow somewhat, distance had become the main obstacle.

"Do you think you'll be able to get him?" Weiss asked abruptly. "Father, I mean."

"It… hasn't been easy. Father knows how to cover his tracks," Winter said. She was avoiding eye contact, which was perhaps the most uncharacteristic thing she'd done tonight. Whatever she was thinking about troubled her greatly. "But I'll continue to investigate. He will go down for what he did to you, Weiss."

"Winter… I don't want you to suffer on my account," Weiss said. "If this is going to land you in trouble with Ironwood, I'd rather you stopped."

"That's out of the question," Winter said firmly. "You deserve better."

As much as Weiss wished Winter would listen to her, she knew there was no arguing with her at that point. She could only hope this wouldn't end badly for Winter. Weiss didn't know if she would be able to live with herself if her sister's career was ruined because of her.

"I think this has been enough emotional honesty for one night," Winter said, clearing her throat. "My skin is crawling. Shall we go inside now?"

"You think inside will be better?" Weiss asked dreadfully.

"Not at all. But we have to rip off that bandage sometime," Winter said.

They turned to the door and stared at it for a moment, as if they were standing before the gates of hell and about to step inside, never to return.

"You'll have my back if I'll have yours?" Weiss said.

Winter nodded. "What else is family for?"

* * *

Dinner was awkward more than anything else, at least at first. Weiss could feel the tense silence behind the clinking of the silverware and the briefly-worded conversations – that special kind of silence that held back pandemonium, and all it took to break it was one poorly thought-out sentence.

Luckily, said pandemonium had been avoided so far. Weiss was doing her part to not even tempt it into the evening, devoting all her attention to the plate before her. The sheer amount and quality of food being brought in constantly from the kitchen had alarmed her when dinner started. Had the family always eaten so lavishly, and she was only realizing it now that she had lived on her own for some time?

She sat beside her sister, as part of their agreement to be there for each other. Winter had gone the extra mile to sit at the corner of the table, which left Weiss isolated from the others – a blessing, though it might not sound that way. Willow was sitting across from Winter, and Whitley was at the head of the table.

Whitley. He was proving to be almost as unnerving a companion as Mother, never speaking except to interject onto a conversation with a snide remark, and constantly shooting looks at Weiss. He had gone from ignoring her to openly displaying how he despised her presence under the same roof as him. Could he be blamed, after what she'd done to him? No. But that didn't mean his behavior didn't bother her.

But she didn't speak up about it. She wasn't going to be the one to set things off.

Fortunately, most of the speaking was happening between her mother and Winter. Weiss would have felt bad about it, if Winter weren't carrying herself so well. If she was still agitated by the nature of the evening, she was doing a splendid job of hiding it. So much so that, if Weiss didn't know her sister better, she would have believed Winter was enjoying the opportunity to reconvene with her estranged family.

All in all, dinner was going better than expected. She might even come out of it unscathed. What a wonder.

"Can you believe that, Weiss?" Willow said, spinning her wine.

And there went her hope.

"Sorry, what was that?" Weiss said, reluctantly looking up from her food. "I'm afraid I lost the conversation."

Whitley snickered and rolled his eyes, but their mother seemed unbothered by either of them.

"I was just asking your sister if she's found anyone promising during her time away from home," Willow said, and smiled knowingly. "She says she has _no time for such things_. If you'll believe her."

"Well." Weiss sent Winter a sideways glance, and got a blank look in return, which could mean a number of things. "She hasn't mentioned anyone to me, so I'd say she's being truthful. She's a very busy person."

Winter breathed out softly, bowing her head in gratitude.

Weiss turned to her mother and waved a hand. "That, and she seems picky."

If Winter were drinking something, she would have spat it all out. "I'm not picky, I have _standards_, and they have yet to be met!"

"Sure, they've yet to be," Weiss said, and picked up her glass to take a long sip of water, staring at Winter over the top of it. She almost wished she had wine instead – it would have made the gesture even more effective.

Winter pursed her lips and grabbed her silverware, digging furiously into a strip of meat on her plate. All that was missing was steam coming out of her ears. Willow leaned back and laughed softly, and even Whitley allowed himself a smirk.

And then the rug was pulled from under Weiss.

"And what about you?" her mother said, turning her gaze to Weiss. "Surely _you _have found someone interesting. A boy, I'd imagine?"

Weiss felt the chair disappear from under her, and then the floor, and suddenly she was sinking into a bottomless pit. She choked on her own breath, and her eyes burned as she scrambled to look at anything but her family.

"Oh, she's got a boyfriend, alright," Whitley said. "Interesting fellow. You should ask her about him."

"I_ thought_ I'd heard your father rambling about a boyfriend," Willow said, shaking her head ruefully. "Of course he would be furious. Anything that takes away from controlling his children…" She paused. "Tell me about him, Weiss."

Winter's hand swiftly found Weiss' shoulder and squeezed. "I don't think she wants to talk about him at the moment, Mother."

"Oh," Willow said. "But you've met him, Winter?"

"Briefly. He was… nice, I suppose," Winter said hesitantly. "They're not together anymore."

_Nice_. Of course he was _nice_. Winter had said just about the most innocuous thing she could about Jaune and still it sent Weiss into a spiral of guilt.

"That's unfortunate." Willow sighed. She smiled at Weiss, stretching a hand across the table to console her. "But things fall apart, it's only natural. You'll be better prepared next time."

In an instant, all of the guilt, shame and remorse Weiss felt spun together and turned into a cold fury. She lifted her head to glare at her mother.

"I treated him like dirt and broke his heart. Nothing about it was _natural_," she said. "You don't know a thing about what went on with us, so I'd appreciate it if kept your advice to yourself."

Silence.

Willow took her hand back, grasping her glass and bringing it to her lips shakily. For a moment she looked so sad, Weiss regretted being so harsh with her. But what else was she supposed to do? Calmly lay out the facts of why she was a heartless monster? The last thing she wanted from her mother was her _sympathy_.

"Weiss," Willow said, soft as a whisper. "Do you still sing?"

Weiss was silent for a moment. What was her mother trying with this? Some sort of apology?

"No," she said. "I haven't sung for a long time."

"That's a shame. You always had such a lovely voice," Willow said. "What about the piano, do you still play it?"

Weiss shook her head.

"I remember when you were a little girl, how much you loved the piano Jacques bought you. You'd spend all day playing it if we let you," Willow said. "You used to drag me by the hand and sit me down to show me the latest song you'd learned. Your excitement was… contagious."

Weiss looked away. She remembered those times too, but much differently than her mother did, apparently.

"I'd love to hear you play once again – if you felt comfortable," Willow said.

"I'm surprised you have any recollection of those days," Weiss said, and she couldn't even summon the energy to be angry. "I'm sure you loved to hear me play. So much so that you'd always pass out halfway through, or wander off in a drunken haze to get yourself a new bottle."

"That's… not true," Willow said, pouting. "I always listened. I _remember_."

"Yes, I'm sure you do."

Willow put her glass down and pushed it away, her eyes glimmering with tears.

"Where do you get off?!" Whitley said abruptly.

Weiss jumped in her seat. "Excuse me?"

"You treat Mother like she's a drunk, you act so superior, but why are you here again?" Whitley said, gripping the edge of the table. "You're a complete mess of a person. You think you're right about everything, you tear down everyone around you even if they're trying to help you, and then you get all righteously mad and act like a victim when that comes back around to bite you. You're _pathetic_."

"I think that's enough, Whitley," Winter said, glaring at him.

"No, it's not nearly enough!" Whitley shouted, getting up and pointing at Weiss. "She's a drunk and – and a hypocrite about it!"

Willow sat aghast, mouth open, her eyes shifting between her children.

"I don't know how you think you know that, but…" Weiss said, looking up at Whitley.

"I'm not clueless. I have two eyes and a nose, I can tell what's happening right in front of me," Whitley said. "I saw the bottles when I came by your apartment. You know, the same day you left a handprint on my face."

"I'm sorry about that," Weiss said. "I wasn't exactly thinking straight. If I could-"

Whitley scoffed. "You _said _I deserved it, so forgive me if I don't buy that apology."

"Well what more do you want from me then? Do you want me to get on my knees and beg for forgiveness?" Weiss snapped. "You know what Father did, and you know you're at least partially responsible for it – but where's _my _apology, Whitley? Or do you think we're even because I slapped you and you took away everything that made me who I am?"

She didn't even know when that had happened, but Weiss was standing now, and locked in a death stare with Whitley. Her hands hung tensely at her sides, and she realized that a month earlier, an intense cold would have been radiating off of them.

"You know what? I _am _sorry," Whitley spat. "I am _so _sorry that you were plucked out of heaven and forced to crawl around in the mud with the rest of us lowly beings. It must be _so terrible_ to be you."

Weiss blinked, startled by Whitley's words. But before she could say anything in return, he stormed off the room.

"I'll make sure he's alright," Winter said, getting up and chasing after him.

Weiss fell back on her chair, the angry knot in her stomach leaving her breathless. She was already starting to regret what she'd said. Sure, Whitley had been the one to really start things, but she hadn't tried very hard to defuse the situation.

"You shouldn't be so hard on him," her mother said, wine glass back in hand.

Weiss sighed. "He was being a brat."

"He's still a boy," Willow said. "And you're his sister."

"And what, I'm supposed to take care of him because of that? That's _your _job," Weiss said.

"Funny." Willow took a long sip of her wine and smiled coldly at her. "You don't seem to mind much whenever Winter takes care of you."

A moment later, regret appeared in her eyes, but by then it was too late. Weiss pushed her chair back and stood up.

"No. You were never there for _any _of us. You don't get to put that on us now," Weiss said. "Thanks for dinner. We won't do this again."

She walked away.

* * *

Jaune stared at his Scroll. Locked, screen black.

Just a few taps away to call the person he wanted to talk to.

He rolled onto his back and turned his eyes to the ceiling. How long had he been here for now? A week? It was hard to keep track of time when all you did was wallow in your self-pity in a hotel room half a world away from home.

The room service was nice, at least. And the movie selection was top notch.

Jaune sighed. He knew he should go back to Vale. He still had a job, a very important job. But the world hadn't ended while he'd been away, so did the team _really _need him? It would seem not at all, if he could leave for a month and things went on just fine.

But he would be deluding himself if he believed that was the real reason he hadn't returned yet. No, it was the thought of what would happen when he arrived at the Tower that kept him rooted to this bed.

He would have to explain what had happened while he'd been away, and why he was only now coming back. The girls would welcome him with open arms, and they would be kind and understanding, no doubt about it. And there was nothing wrong with that.

Except that he'd already had enough pity to last him a lifetime.

Maybe he could go home instead. _Home_, home. But he wasn't sure that would be any less embarrassing than the alternative. It might not sting as much – at least his parents didn't have as high expectations of him as, say, Pyrrha did.

Jaune eyed his Scroll again. He really should call her before it was too late. He remembered how worried she'd been for Blake last year, and how she'd several times promised – threatened, really – to fly over to Vacuo and _aggressively _help her. If Pyrrha didn't hear that he was fine soon, she might get the idea to track him down and drag him back home by the collar of his shirt.

But would that be so bad? Yes, it would be humiliating. _But _as far as his options went, it might just be the easiest. If he disappointed Pyrrha alone first, maybe it wouldn't feel so bad when he got to the others.

It was a sad state of affairs when that was his silver lining.

A knock on the door roused him from his thoughts. Room service? Yes, he vaguely remembering making an order for chocolate. Lots of chocolate. A life-threatening amount of chocolate. A smile came to his lips. This was just what he needed, a sweet distraction from his endless brooding!

Happiness turned to terror when he opened the door and was met with the sight of sea-blue eyes and hair like snow. It took him a moment to register that said hair stood a little taller than he had grown accustomed to. His panic lessened, but only slightly.

"Evening," Winter Schnee said. She was the picture of formality, her face carefully blank and hands behind her back.

"H-hi," Jaune said. "What are you doing h-"

She strutted past him, coming to stand at the center of the room. Her expression didn't change as she examined the bed and the clothes scattered all over the floor, but he could feel the disappointment radiating off of her.

"I thought you were room service," Jaune said, turning around awkwardly. "I ordered chocolate." It occurred to him that such information was of no interest to someone like Winter, but it was better than silence.

Winter looked at him again, and this time one eyebrow rose ever so slightly. "You are referring to the trolley that was being brought to this room?"

"Yes!" Jaune perked up. "Is it here?"

"I saw it as I got out of the elevator. It was quite full," Winter mused. She gestured dismissively at the air. "I sent it away."

Jaune held back a groan. It was true, Schnee women only brought him misfortune.

"Close the door, please," Winter said. "We need to talk."

Jaune had half the mind to run out of the room and lock Winter inside it instead, but he managed to do as she asked well enough. It was a wonder he could move at all, with how upset his stomach had so suddenly gotten. Talking to Pyrrha or his parents didn't sound so bad anymore, now that Winter was standing before him. She was perhaps the last person he wanted to have a conversation with.

Save for Weiss herself, of course.

"It's my understanding you were assisting my sister in her investigation of Flynt Coal," Winter said.

"I… was?" Jaune said, confused. Was this _not_ about Weiss? Wait, should he be talking about any of this? "Unless that was illegal, then I definitely wasn't helping any investigations. I don't even know what investigation you're talking about, really!"

Winter stared at him with the most unimpressed look he'd ever seen on a person. "If it were my intention to get you in trouble with the law, Mister Arc, I wouldn't have done it in such a way to implicate my sister as well," she said. "I'm here on official capacity, Mister Arc. You're privy to information Weiss neglected to share with me previously. I would hope for you to be wiser than her in that respect."

"Couldn't you ask her directly, then? Why come to me?" Jaune said, frowning.

"My sister's life is complicated enough right now without my bothering her with something like this," Winter said. "I'm sure you understand."

Oh, Jaune certainly understood. Weiss had been in a rough shape the last he'd seen her. She must still be recovering from that. But wasn't he also? Why did she get to dodge interrogation and he didn't?

Probably because Winter wasn't _his _sister. Maybe he ought to get Saphron to come shake Weiss down a bit. Now _that _would be cathartic.

"This is about Flynt Coal?" Jaune asked, crossing his arms.

Winter nodded. "He's still at large. It's imperative that he be captured as soon as possible," she said. "But first I'll have to understand how he escaped in the first place."

She turned and patted the bed behind her, disgust flashing across her face, before she sat down at the edge of it. Crossing one leg over the other, she fixed him with a stare, and Jaune understood that she wouldn't leave until he gave her the answers she wanted.

"Fine. I guess, if it's for the good of Atlas," Jaune said, throwing his hands up. "What do you want to know?"

"The military personnel that were relocating Coal claimed in their reports that their transport was stopped by Weiss Schnee. Supposedly, she flew down from the sky and, using her powers, incapacitated the soldiers and freed their charge," Winter said. "Is any of that true?"

Jaune winced. Yeah, this was going to get complicated fast. He should have thought this out better before agreeing to speak. Hadn't he made a promise to keep Flynt out of trouble? Granted, he wasn't feeling favorable at all with Weiss at the moment, but that felt beyond the point, considering the stakes.

"I… wasn't there," Jaune said slowly. "I only know what she told me."

"So she _was_ involved somehow," Winter said. "And?"

"We… _She _asked me to track the transport vehicle, so I did. Then she went chasing after it," Jaune said. "She didn't stop it, though. She said the transport was already stopped when she got there, and Flynt was already out and getting shot at or something. That's when Weiss rescued him."

Winter was silent for a moment, as if filing that information away in her head.

"She rescued him," Winter said. "I don't understand why Weiss would go through such trouble to help a man who tried to and nearly did kill her."

"Well, she was pretty obsessed with understanding why Flynt wanted to kill her. She wanted answers," Jaune said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess she got them, because he told her about it all afterwards. Flynt's father, Corban Coal, used to be a scientist specialized in Semblances, and _your _father used to fund his research."

Winter looked at the ceiling and scoffed. "Of course this is about Jacques."

"Yep. In hindsight, it was always pretty obvious," Jaune said. "Jacques was pressuring Corban to come up with a way to mass produce Semblances, but Corban refused to do that, because he knew what it would lead to. Things must have gotten really rough for him, because he decided to take his wife and his baby and flee, but…"

Jaune paused, staring agape at Winter as he recalled a particular detail of the story.

"But?" Winter said, raising an eyebrow.

"But… Well, uh…" Jaune said. "Jacques kinda… sicced the Army on him."

"What? The _Army_?" Winter uncrossed her legs, putting her foot down on the floor with a boom. "That's preposterous. I would _hope _you have more proof than the second-hand retelling of a criminal's words, _Arc_."

"I do! Just – wait a second, I have it here," Jaune said, and practically dove to the far corner of the room beside his bed, where he'd left his backpack. He took out his laptop and, as he waited for it to boot up, spoke to Winter again. "That was more than twenty years ago. Apparently the military of the time was interested in Semblances too, and – here it is."

He pulled up the file he'd dug up from the SDC network, an official order from the Atlas Military demanding that the Company turn over Corban Coal's research on Semblances, and handed the laptop over to Winter so she could see. She stared at the screen, reading the order over once, twice, her brow furrowing with concern.

"This… can't be right," she said, so quiet she could only be speaking to herself.

"Why? Do you think it was faked or something?" Jaune asked.

"It doesn't _appear _to be. But I suppose that would be the point," Winter said. "If this order is real, it was declared twenty-three years ago. Way before my time in the Army, and before James was even made General. I don't know who could be responsible."

"Is this the kind of thing that comes with a name attached?" Jaune said. "Like – _Gimme all your things and stuff, signed Colonel Mustache the Third_." He paused. "Just as an example."

"Not necessarily," Winter said. "Where did you get this?"

"The SDC Network," Jaune said. "It was buried pretty deep, too. Had been deleted _years _ago."

Winter shook her head. "_How _did you get this?"

"Well, I'm… pretty good with computer stuff," Jaune said. "It's like one of my superpowers, kind of. It's why they call me the, uh… hacker… man?" He swallowed dry, suddenly aware of the silence in the room except for his own voice. "Hackerman," he whispered.

Winter sighed. If Jaune had earned any goodwill with her, it had swiftly evaporated.

"I'm going to need a copy of this," Winter said. Not waiting for a response, she took a thumb drive from her pocket and stuck into his laptop. "This won't lead me to Coal, but it's a start. And since Jacques is involved, it might…"

She trailed off, never finishing that thought out loud. But Jaune could imagine how it ended. _It might help get justice for Weiss as well_. He didn't know how to feel about that. Proud to be still be helping Weiss despite everything, or ashamed of it?

"Are you planning to stay in town any longer?" Winter asked, looking around the room as if she already knew the answer.

"I… don't know," Jaune said, shoulders slumping. "Yeah, probably."

"Good. Depending on how this goes, I might require your assistance," Winter said, withdrawing her thumb drive and putting his laptop away. "Not in the same way you assisted my sister." She stood up and stared at him coolly. "_Certainly _not in the same way. But you've proved yourself useful so far."

Her face was impassive, but Jaune thought he saw something almost warm in the way she held his gaze. She was being honest that he might be useful to her, that much was clear, but he had the impression she had said that to reassure him as well. Or maybe he was just looking for recognition wherever he could find it.

"You… were good to my sister," Winter said. "Despite how it ended, you shouldn't feel ashamed of that."

"Thanks," Jaune said bitterly. "That's nice of you to say. But it doesn't make me feel much better, especially when it's coming from… You know." He gestured vaguely at her.

"Fair enough," Winter said. "Well, I would offer my apologies, but I'm not the one you need that from. I'll contact you if the need arises."

She nodded and walked out of the room. As soon as she closed the door, Jaune collapsed face-first onto his bed. Well, at least he had survived this encounter. Now, to lie sleepless until the sun came up.

Ten minutes later, there was a knock on his door again. Dreadfully, he forced himself to his feet, and shuffled over to open it, wondering what Winter wanted now – only to be met with the familiar faces of the room service staff, carrying not one, but two trolleys full of chocolate goodness.

* * *

Weiss couldn't fall asleep. She used to suffer no such hardships, but ever since she'd been attacked and robbed of her Semblance, she'd found it difficult to keep her eyes closed for any more than a minute, and that had only worsened when she moved to the Manor. Most nights she'd lie awake well past midnight, her body tired but mind possessed of a restless energy.

Tonight was no exception. There were too many thoughts racing through her head for her to even entertain sleeping. After she'd stormed off from the dining room and sufficient time had passed, her feelings had turned from anger to regret.

Whitley had been a tad unfair towards her, but he did have every right to be angry with her. She should have been more understanding of his situation. If _anyone _should be able to understand the position he was in, that person was her. But it had been too much to ask for her to look past herself and realize that, just like her, Whitley was just trying to survive their father's influence without completely losing himself.

And the way she'd treated her mother… Perhaps some of those feelings were warranted – Willow had rarely been a nurturing presence in her life the way she should have been – but had expressing them so cruelly done any good to anyone? It hadn't fixed anything, and it hadn't even made Weiss feel better, not for a second.

Weiss had made a promise to herself that she wouldn't ruin the evening, and yet she had done it anyway, like she always ruined everything in her life. And it wasn't like she didn't realize it. That was perhaps the worst part. If only she were blind to her shortcomings, at least then she could have placed the blame elsewhere. She probably wouldn't have ended up in this sorry situation in the first place.

She had been so preoccupied with her thoughts that she didn't notice her bedroom door open slightly, and her name being called out by a subdued voice. Only when the lights came on did she sit up in her bed and saw her mother standing in the doorway. Weiss nearly shouted at her to get out, but by some miracle of will she managed to stop herself – perhaps because she had been condemning her own lack of compassion mere minutes before.

"Mother," Weiss said. "What are you doing here?" She glanced towards her bedside clock. "It's two in the morning."

"I'm sorry. I didn't wake you up, did I?" Willow said. "I had a feeling you would still be awake."

Weiss nearly snapped again – if her mother was so damn perceptive, then why couldn't she realize she wasn't welcome in her room. She took a deep breath.

_Be kind. Just try._

"You didn't," Weiss said. "Is there something you wanted, or…?"

"I want to show you something, if you wouldn't mind," Willow said. She stood there for a moment, swaying slightly on her feet, before she clumsily added, "You should put on a coat or mantle. We wouldn't want you to catch a cold."

Going anywhere with her mother sounded beyond uncomfortable to Weiss. She had half the mind to gently decline, but that unusual moment of consideration in warning her against the cold gave her pause. And then realizing that her mother had neither a bottle nor a glass of wine on her gave Weiss even bigger pause.

"Okay," Weiss murmured. "Give me just a minute."

She hopped off her bed and went over to her closet, where she quickly changed out of her sleeping gown into a thick sweater and pants. Once she was done, she joined her mother, and they walked out of the room.

Willow led the way, silent, though Weiss could tell she wanted desperately to say something, anything, but couldn't quite get there. Weiss found herself similarly tense. She wanted to ask where they were going, and if Whitley was okay, but the quiet, unnerving as it was, was far less complicated than any conversation they could have.

They made their way through the manor, eventually arriving at one of the back rooms. There, Willow opened a door to the garden behind the house. The cold air rushed in, and though she'd protected herself fairly well against it, Weiss still had to rub her arms to keep herself from shivering. Her mother was similarly stricken, though she seemed to recover fast, stepping into the open not a minute later. Grudgingly, Weiss followed her.

There were many beautiful flowers to be seen across the manor's vast garden, and Weiss hadn't yet had the opportunity, or desire to check out the additions that had been made since she'd moved out. Yet those didn't seem to be the reason why her mother had brought her there, as she ignored the rows of flowers and instead led her up a path to a secluded spot nearer to the limits of the estate.

A lone building stood there, a solidly-built wooden shack with a tilted glass ceiling – some sort of greenhouse, Weiss guessed, and she was soon proven to be right when her mother opened the door and they stepped inside. There were more flowers, not nearly as many as outside, but what the greenhouse lacked in quantity it made up in variety, and in the obvious care that had been given to each of the flowers.

"What is this place?" Weiss asked, stepping forward to examine a brightly-hued blue azalea.

"This is where I grow my plants," Willow said. She closed the door behind her, cutting off the chill air, and walked over to Weiss' side. "Think of it as my… personal garden. Or my sanctuary, if you'd like."

"Your sanctuary," Weiss said. She brushed the azalea with her finger, marveling at how soft it was. "So you actually grew all of these yourself?"

"Of course," Willow said. "What, did you think I had Klein and the rest of the staff do all the work for me?"

Weiss didn't answer, though she was sure her mother could tell by the guilty look on her face that, yes, that was exactly what she'd pictured until now. Frankly, she still couldn't fully buy the idea of _Willow Schnee_ as a devoted gardener.

"That's quite alright, dear. This would be an endeavor for any one person to take on alone," Willow said, patting her arm. "I do allow Klein to assist me from time to time. But this is _my _garden. If he were to make any significant decisions without my say-so… We would have problems, suffice it to say."

The passion in her mother's voice was almost disconcerting. It was almost like Weiss was standing beside a complete stranger.

"Well, you've done a splendid job, Mother," Weiss said. "It's a beautiful garden."

"Thank you. I'm rather proud of it," Willow said, lifting her chin.

Yes, Weiss could tell. "When did you start working on it? This wasn't here when I moved out, I don't think."

"Actually, it was. This used to be a shed, but it was rarely ever used by anyone. I had it converted to a greenhouse when you were…" Willow paused, taking a moment to think. "You must have been thirteen or twelve. I've been tending to it since then."

That couldn't be right. Weiss would remember her mother doing something like this for that long. Except… would she, really? With a pang of guilt, she realized she had stopped paying attention a long time ago, and that her mother could have been doing a myriad of activities without Weiss ever taking notice.

"Is this why you brought me here? Because of what I said at dinner?" Weiss asked.

"No! Absolutely not, darling," Willow said. She was silent for a moment, biting her lip, before she sighed. "Well, perhaps it's something to do with that. But it's not to reprimand you, nothing of the sort. You are right that I was never much of an… attentive mother. But I've always been proud of you. I just… Things got in the way."

Her gaze strayed, and she smacked her lips, perhaps without even realizing it. There was no wine in the greenhouse, but Weiss could detect its scent. She didn't know if it was in her mother's breath, of if she was just imagining it.

"Mother, why are we here?" Weiss asked. She felt so tired all of sudden.

"I suppose… I wanted to show you I'm not a complete…" Willow trailed off, her voice ending in a faint croak. She put a hand on her forehead and closed her eyes. "I don't know what I was thinking. I'm sorry I wasted your time with this foolishness."

"Don't be," Weiss said softly. To her own surprise, she brought a hand to her mother's arm and gently caressed it. "I understand. I'm sorry I upset you."

Her mother stared at her, two pools of blue so deep in melancholy, Weiss felt her throat get tight at the sight.

"It's true that most of my memories are in a haze. But most of what I do remember is about you," Willow said. "I always saw a fire in you. Such a lively girl, when you had every reason not to be. You reminded me of myself when I was much younger. And now…" She breathed in shakily. "That fire is getting harder to see every day. It's fading away, and I'm afraid if you keep on like this, you'll lose it and never be able to find it again."

Weiss drew away, a bitter taste flooding her mouth. "You have no idea what I've been through lately."

"I know enough, Weiss," Willow said, her voice so strong all of a sudden, Weiss jumped in surprise. "Your sister told me after you and your brother stormed off. I demanded she tell me, so I could at least try to take care of you."

"Still, you… can't understand," Weiss said. "Father-"

"Forget about your father. He's draining the life out of you, but only because you're allowing him to," Willow said. "He's not responsible for your wellbeing. He's not in control of your life, _you are_. It's terribly unfair everything he's done to you, but if you keep putting everything on him, someday you'll wake up and realize you've given years of your life to him, and there's _no _getting them back."

A dead silence took hold of the greenhouse as Willow stopped speaking. A tear rolled down her cheek, which she wiped off with her sleeve, before she looked around, almost as if in search of something. Her breath came out ragged, dry, and her hands shook wildly.

Weiss had fought monsters and villains, had put herself in mortal danger dozens of times, but she had never before seen something so frightening. She'd always known there was a great sadness inside her mother, but nothing could have prepared her to see it unravel before her eyes.

She tried to reach for her mother, but Willow drew away, shaking her head. "The flowers aren't the only thing I meant to show you. I was afraid, but…" Willow said. "I know you'll be furious with me. But please let me speak first, then you can yell at me all you want."

Weiss frowned. "Mom?"

Willow stepped back and raised her right hand before her, palm facing the sky. It was still shaking like before, but as she concentrated, that abated somewhat. The rest of her body was completely still, except for her chest, rising and falling with labored breathing. Sweat dripped down her forehead.

Beginning to fear her mother might be having some sort of attack, Weiss took a step towards her – only to stop in her tracks when she saw a flicker of light. Eyes widened, she stared as the light coalesced above her mother's palm, in the form of a white disc. A glyph.

It was small, barely the size of an apple, and it didn't look nearly as strong as Winter's or Weiss' did. After a couple seconds, it blinked out of existence, and Willow lowered her hand.

"I'm sorry. I haven't done that in decades," she said faintly.

For quite a while, all Weiss could do was stare at the point in the air where the glyph had been hovering moments before. She could have almost convinced herself that she'd imagined it, if only the image weren't so clear in her head, and if it didn't make a whole lot of things she'd had questions about suddenly make sense.

"You have a Semblance. Same as mine and Winter's," Weiss said. "We got it from you."

Willow nodded. "It would appear so."

Like hearing her mother's voice had flipped a switch in her head, Weiss suddenly exploded with rage. "You had it all this time and you never thought to use it?! You could have stood up for yourself, for us – you could have saved all of us so much suffering, but you _didn't_! Why?!"

"It's not that simple," her mother said.

"Yes, it is! You could have put him in his place anytime, but you _chose_ not to!" Weiss shouted. "You let him walk all over you, you let him treat me and Winter and Whitley like servants, you let him – you let him hit us – and you did _nothing_ to stop it!"

She felt angry tears roll down her cheeks, her chest so tight she could barely breathe, let alone utter another word. She didn't know if she wanted to yell even more, or storm out, or destroy all the flowers her mother was so very proud of-

"Can I speak now?" Willow whispered. She looked and sounded so small, even through all her rage, Weiss felt a tiny pang of guilt.

_Be kind. Be kind be kind be kind be kind be kind._

"Explain yourself, then," Weiss said.

Her mother moved away, dragging her feet as if all the strength had been drained out of her, and stopped to lean against a counter. It was good she was shielded from the wind outside the greenhouse – one brush of it and she might have crumbled into dust.

"I don't remember quite when I discovered… that. My Semblance, as you call it," Willow said. "I think it happened when I was a child. I never told any of my family about it. I was scared what my father might do if he found out – would he be angry, would he be concerned, enough to send me away?" She shook her head. "I rarely did anything with it, and by the time I was a teenager I'd stopped altogether. But I never forgot. In a way, I suppose, it made me feel… special."

She smiled sourly, and as they met eyes again, Weiss thought she understood why so many family and business acquaintances had often compared her to her mother in her earlier days.

"The things I got up to when I was young. You wouldn't believe the half of it," Willow said. "But the complications of adulthood come to us all eventually. In my case, they came in the form of marriage. My father had spent his entire life building the SDC into the business giant it is today, and he needed an heir he could hand it off to when the time came. I was his only child, but I had neither the experience nor the interest to take over the company. So he turned to the young man who had been his protégé for years."

Her hand went up to her mouth in reflex, and for a moment she stared at it, flummoxed that it was empty. She pursed her lips and turned away, an expression on her face that was in equal measures bitter and wistful.

"Your father was different back then. Or perhaps I just couldn't see the real Jacques yet," Willow said. "We saw each other quite a lot, but we were never close. But there was something about him. He had his unique brand of charm, I suppose. And oh, he had ambition. That was somehow powerful to me. I wasn't at all happy that I was being married off like a piece of meat, like the fortuitous side benefit of a business contract, but there were worse people. I even thought-" She looked to the ceiling. "I even thought, _maybe I can make this work_."

Weiss found herself transfixed by her mother's story, though at the same time she didn't know if she truly wanted to hear any of this. She had a feeling she would be happier off not knowing.

"I couldn't make it work," Willow said, her hands curling into fists. "Maybe that was why things ended up the way they did. My arrogance that I could change a man that would not be changed. The _frustration_. The helplessness. I'm Willow Schnee, I'm better than this, I should be better than this, I _should have been able-_"

She cut herself short, and there was silence for a long minute.

"We were supposed to have children eventually, but neither of us were interested in that notion," Willow said. "Your father had other, more _important_ things in mind. He was _obsessed _with Semblances. I didn't care to know why, I was just bitter that _that _was what he was so concerned with, not me, not our marriage. And then I made the worst decision in my life. I showed him my Semblance. I thought, maybe this will be the thing that fixes everything." She paused. "Suddenly, he was _very _interested in having children."

Weiss stumbled to the side, catching hold of the first thing her flailing hand found, a flowerpot which she nearly knocked clean off its counter. She felt like doubling over and vomiting on the floor, overwhelmed by a sudden nausea.

"He was disappointed, of course, even when Winter happened. And then you, and even later Whitley, when I thought he'd lost interest," Willow said, almost rambling now, seemingly unaware of Weiss' condition. "I don't know what he expected. As if you children would be the key to solving all his problems-"

"God, _shut up!_" Weiss shouted, slamming her hand on the counter. "Just shut up! I don't need to hear this, I don't want to hear-"

She found herself short of air, and the next thing she knew, her mother was holding her tight against her chest. A _hug_. Weiss couldn't remember the last time her mother had hugged her. Had she ever?

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Willow said, running a hand through Weiss' hair. "I'm not telling you all of this to upset you. There's _nothing _wrong with you, sweetheart."

"How can you say that? My whole existence is some kind of twisted _experiment_. And even in that I am a failure to him!" Weiss said. "What do _you _expect from me? Pity, is that what you want? Do you want me to forgive you because you made such a mess of your life?"

She pushed herself away and darted towards the door, but before she could get there, her mother got in the way, moving faster than Weiss would have ever thought possible. She raised her hands to the sides of Weiss' head, holding her there, eyes staring into hers.

"I want you to listen and understand," Willow said, firm, not a quiver to her voice. "Life is unfair. It is _hard_. People will do terrible things to you, but you can't let that define you. The moment you do, you'll start doing terrible things to yourself, and there's nothing worse than that."

She leaned forward and planted a kiss on Weiss' forehead.

"It's too late for me, but it's not too late for you," she said. "You're so much stronger than me, so I know you can do better. I love you."

That simple declaration, tagged onto the end almost like an afterthought, was what finally broke her. Weiss bowed her head, half-sobbing, half-laughing, and let herself be pulled into an embrace again.

Her mind raced with a million thoughts, and in her heart, she couldn't decide how to feel. But for the first time in a long while, that didn't matter at all. All that mattered was her mother gently rocking her, the soothing humming in her ear, and the warmth that encompassed her.

* * *

Flynt got up from his bed. He glanced at the window – it was still dark outside. One minute earlier he'd been sleeping soundly, before _something_ had brought him to a sudden wakefulness. He had a terrible feeling at the pit of his stomach, and though he couldn't understand why, he knew if he lied down and closed his eyes again, he would come to regret it greatly.

He walked out into the hallway, stepping softly, and peeked into his father's room. Corban's breathing came in abrupt intervals, sometimes accompanied by a cough or two. If Flynt didn't know that was how he always slept, he would have thought his father was in pain.

Flynt backed away. The house being so small, there were only two other places for him to check, not counting the basement. First was the bathroom at the very end of the hallway – a slight push to the door revealed no trouble there. That left only the living room to check.

He made his way there, avoiding bumping his feet into any stray junk piles along the hallway. Not only would he feel terrible if he woke up his father by knocking something over, he knew he would have to pick up everything himself.

There was nothing out of the ordinary in the living room, either. The trapdoor to the basement, which his father had locked at the end of the day, was undisturbed, and the windows were shut tight to keep out the cold.

Flynt released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and let his shoulders slump. It was probably just the stress of the last month that had woken him up. Just to make sure, he went to the front door and gave it a light push.

It jostled forward, stopped by its hinges, and swung open on the way back.

Flynt's blood ran cold, and not only from the wind buffeting him. He scanned the space in front of the house, panic mounting as he made out what could only be footprints in the snow – before he heard the creak of a boot behind him.

He spun around suddenly, his arm already swinging to slam against whoever had snuck up on him – a figure in the dark, too tall and steady to be his father – but before he could connect the blow, his assailant struck him on the ribs with a baton, and an electric jolt stole the strength from his legs and sent him sprawling to the floor. Flynt barely managed to brace the fall with his hands. He opened his mouth, a shout building in his lungs…

A metal collar closed around his neck, and he found his Aura suddenly combating a constant stream of electricity. He knew what would happen if he tried using his Semblance. The pain would become excruciating, and he would be left helpless.

"Don't move a muscle," the person standing over him said. A woman, he could tell by her voice, and as he ventured a glance backwards, he saw black hair cut short, green eyes, and more important than anything, a Dust pistol drawn and raised. "I said _don't move a muscle_."

The woman pushed her pistol into the back of Flynt's neck. He winced at the contact, heart beating fast. "Who the hell are you?" he grunted. "How did you-"

"For such a notorious criminal, you're incredibly bad at covering your tracks."

Flynt's heart dropped to his stomach. He'd been followed, of course he'd been followed. Worse than that, he'd led this person straight to his father's doorstep.

_Father_.

"Look, I don't know what you're waiting for. If you wanna take me back to prison, fine, I'll walk out of this house on my own feet, no complaints," Flynt said, slowly raising his hands above his head. "If you wanna shoot me, just shoot me already. I'm clearly defenseless."

"How very selfless of you," the invader said. "But we both know if I wanted you dead, we wouldn't be speaking right now." She leaned over, and he felt her breath on his ear. "I couldn't give less of a shit about you, kid. I'm only interested in one thing, and you're gonna help me get it. Or rather, _he will_."

Flynt heard a door opening, and then the beat of a cane against the floor shuffling ever closer from the hallway, and it took all his willpower not to jump to his feet and try and tackle the stranger.

"Dad, don't come to the living room!" he shouted. "There's someone-"

The invader slammed the butt of her pistol against the back of his head, and the world doubled in front of him, the floor racing towards his face. Before he hit it, he was yanked back by the collar of his shirt, the pistol now pressed to his left cheek. When his vision cleared, he saw his father standing at the hallway's threshold.

"Who-"

"Don't bother," the invader said, turning the pistol so it dug into Flynt's flesh. "I'll be asking the questions here. You're Corban Coal, correct?"

His father nodded, looking from her to Flynt in fright. "I am." He could barely hold his cane steady in his hands.

"Allow me to get this out of the way," the invader said. "Your son possesses a layer of Aura that will protect him from most types of injuries. Normally that would mean I would be no threat to him, but right now said Aura is shielding his organism from a ceaseless voltaic onslaught. His Aura is as good as paper." She paused. "Have you ever seen what a point-blank blast from a Dust pistol will do to a person's spine?"

Corban didn't answer, his eyes fixed on Flynt now.

"Good, we are understood. Now, I want you to tell me how the boy got his Semblance," the invader said. "You being his father, it would be awfully big a coincidence if he just happened to have gained it naturally. No, I'm inclined to believe you had a hand in that. So spill – how did you do it?"

Corban grimaced. "If I tell you… you'll let my son go?"

"_After_ you tell me," the invader replied curtly. "_If _I'm satisfied."

Flynt wanted to shout at his father not to do as she asked, but what other choice did he have? His greatest nightmare of his research being stolen was unfolding before him, but his son's life was on the line. How was he supposed to do anything but comply?

"I built a machine," Corban said. "It would be easier to show you."

"Where is it?" the invader asked.

"The basement." Corban gestured at the trapdoor, then carefully moved across the room to retrieve the keys from a drawer, his eyes never leaving Flynt. "I'll… have to get it open first. Please."

"Go ahead. But if you're trying to pull some trick, you'd better think twice," the invader said, pressing the pistol even harder on Flynt's face.

"I _think _you've made your point," Flynt mumbled. "…Bitch."

She looked at him, unaffected, before she shoved him towards the trapdoor. His father got it open a minute later, once he'd gotten some meager control over his trembling fingers, and she bade them down the steps with a wave of her gun.

Once they were all in the basement, the invader put Flynt back on his knees and directed him to keep his hands on his head. He did so grudgingly, all the while looking around for any means to fight back, but any improvised weapon he could get a hold of would be no match to a Dust pistol.

"Well? Show me this machine," the invader said, gesturing at Corban. She had stopped at the bottom of the stairs, blocking the way back up.

"Give me a goddamn second!" Corban exclaimed, his anger at the situation starting to come through. He eyed the woman venomously as he walked to the other end of the basement, where the machine lay hidden under a black tarp. "You work for the SDC, don't you?"

"I think you've got more pressing concerns than who it is I work for," the invader said.

"You fucking do. Jacques Schnee, he sent you after us," Corban spat. "Who else is involved? The military? His _daughter_. My son's escape, the whole thing was a farce, wasn't it, so he would drop his guard and-"

"_Dad_," Flynt interrupted. "I think maybe you should avoid pissing off our lady guest, nasty as she is."

The invader smiled coldly. "I'd take his advice."

Corban glared at her impotently for a moment, before he turned and started taking the tarp off the machine.

Glad as he was that his father hadn't escalated the situation, Flynt couldn't help but worry that he might be right. Had Weiss really tricked him? It sounded farfetched, but so had the idea of a Schnee being a good person and rescuing him.

"How does this thing work, exactly?" the invader asked, walking over to the machine. She looked her shoulder at Flynt. "Try to run and I'll shoot your father, then hunt you down like the dog you are."

Flynt had no intention to leave his father behind, but he still bristled at the woman. The worst part was he couldn't even fight back.

"Most Semblances are activated by episodes of extreme physical or emotional stress, sometimes both," Corban said grudgingly. "This machine was designed to recreate such conditions in a safe environment. That's done with a mixture of Dust in gaseous forms, as well as-" He paused to glare at the woman. "I feel like I'm wasting my time here. This explanation is _far_ above your paygrade."

She didn't deign him with a response. "Can just about anyone undergo this… experience?"

"_Sure_," Corban said. "Even you. Why don't you step inside and try it out yourself?"

"You know what? You're not wrong, this _is_ above my paygrade. But I only need to know the gist of it – the people who care will get into the specifics," the invader said. "I'm guessing you've got papers on this stuff laying around."

"You guessed wrong."

Without a word, the invader lifted her pistol and aimed it at Flynt. His father flinched, and when she showed no sign of relaxing, muttered something under his breath and shuffled to a cabinet at a corner of the basement where he kept all his documents. He came out with a dozen or so files, the culmination of his decades of research into Semblances. He had a truly agonized face when he handed them over, and even Flynt felt a tightness in his heart.

As the woman shuffled through the papers, Flynt realized that, though there had been no safe way out of it, his father had just doomed them. His father's knowledge was unmatched, but to the SDC, the written research would be good enough. Left alive, they would be worse than useless – they would be loose ends.

His father had surely come to the same conclusion already, if the way he was looking at Flynt was any indication. He kept nodding towards the stairs, urging him to run before it was too late, but Flynt refused to abandon him. Not after everything they'd gone through – not ever.

There was no escape. No overpowering the invader physically. That only left Flynt one option, and it would hurt like hell, perhaps even kill him. But he'd been ready to do it when he'd escaped, before Weiss Schnee had come to his rescue, which he doubted would happen now. And if it did, well, he would rather punch her in the mouth than to accept her help.

"This is everything?" the invader asked, lowering the papers. "I suppose we are done here, then." She raised her pistol. "Would you prefer to do this standing, or on your knees?"

"Don't do this," Corban said. "Please. _Please, _spare my son at least."

"Not an option. But I'll make it quick for both of you, which is more than you-"

Suddenly, Flynt rose to his feet. "Dad, back away!"

The invader whirled to face him, but before she could shoot, before she realized what he was about to do, Flynt _shouted_. He ignored the hundreds of steel pins that seemed to pierce his neck all at once, the lightning that ran down his spine, the shadows that stole his vision, as he let out every drop of power and rage he had in him through his voice.

He didn't even get to see the results of his attack. He was on the ground, curling up and spasming and flailing about, which was disconcerting, as he seemed to have no control whatsoever of what his body was doing. He was breathing, just barely, but something told him he wouldn't be doing that for much longer.

That knowledge shouldn't have been so comforting.

"Flynt!" he heard his father yell, and when he somehow managed to open his eyes, he saw him leaning over him. "Flynt, my son! You're – you're going to be okay! We need to get out here, you hit the machine as well! The Dust's gone unstable!"

Oh. Yeah, that didn't sound good. And it explained why specks of dirt and rock were falling from the ceiling, and why the basement seemed to so impossibly hot and cold at the same time. It wasn't just him.

"Hold on to me, Flynt!" his father yelled, lifting him off the floor and passing Flynt's arm over his own shoulders. "We're going to get out. Just hold on…"

He stumbled towards the stairs, Flynt doing his best to help, though he could barely feel the weight of his feet on the floor. He heard another voice yelling for help behind them, but he paid it no mind, nor did his father.

"We're going to get there." His father's voice was getting fainter as he struggled to get the two of them up the steps. "We're going to-"

The whole house shook. Behind them, the ceiling of the basement started to cave in, and down with it came the sections of the house above it. As they got to the last step and stumbled into the living room, and the distance to the front door seemed to be a continent away, Flynt knew they were _not _going to make it, not before the Dust exploded and collapsed the rest of the house.

There was only one thing to do, then.

He tackled his father to the ground.

* * *

Winter stared at her screen. _For the Good of Great Atlas_, read the text at the end of the order Jaune had provided her with.

She'd had to do little research to find out who might have been responsible for a decree of this significance twenty-three years ago. Many important people had risen in rank or left the military entirely since then. The exception was one captain she was unfortunately well acquainted with.

Winter sighed. The General would not be happy about this development, especially if she turned out to be wrong. But, for better or worse, Winter was rarely wrong about anything.

* * *

Corban crawled out of the ruins of his house, covered in dirt and dust and coughing more than he was breathing. He got up on his knees and turned to face the house, having to lift his arm in front of his eyes to shield them from the beam of multicolored light that rose from where the basement had once been.

"Flynt!" he tried to shout, but his voice barely made it out of his throat. "Flynt!"

He knew it was to futile to call. His son was not going to respond, and he was not going to come crawling after him.

"Stupid boy! Stupid boy, giving your – your life for an old man, you stupid, wonderful-" He sobbed. "Wonderful boy…"

He bowed his head, knuckles turning white around the gun. He'd snatched it from that monster of a woman before he'd raced to help Flynt, and somehow, throughout everything, he'd managed to keep a hold of it.

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, wincing at how they stung. His sobs lessened, and the sorrow inside him hid away, leaving a void inside him that was quickly filled by something worse, something cold.

_They're all going to Hell for this_.

Standing up, he looked behind him. The explosion had woken the whole settlement, and he could now see the shapes of people coming towards the collapsed house. Dust pistol in hand, Corban wandered off into the snowstorm.


	9. A Name Spoken in Fury

"_There are some who believe the threat of the Grimm is under control_," General Ironwood said."_And while for now, that may be true, we cannot afford ourselves the luxury of thinking that will last. We cannot depend on the protection of Beacon and the Hunt forever. That's why the Colossus is imperative to the long-term safety of not only Atlas, but the whole world._"

"_To demonstrate the capabilities of the Colossus, we will be holding a public showcase next week. Details of the event will be shared with the invited press soon. Of course, as the first Colossus' designated pilot, Captain Caroline Cordovin shall be at the helm for the event._"

"_Once again, we would be remiss to not mention the involvement of the Schnee Dust Company. Without the contribution of its great minds, this project would not have been possible._"

"_We will now open for questions-_"

"Such idiocy," Willow said, standing up to grab the remote and mute the TV. "Can you believe this nonsense?"

From the sofa, Weiss looked up from the plate on her lap to glance at the screen. She couldn't pretend she hadn't been paying apt attention to the broadcast, but she could at least keep an air of grace about it. That, and she wasn't nearly as outraged by it as her mother was. Weiss had dealt with _this nonsense_ for nearly a month, trying and failing to put a stop to it, and by now she was just about numb to it.

"Which part do you mean, exactly?" Weiss said.

"The one where General Ironwood is working with your father," Willow said, sitting back beside her. "He must be aware of what Jacques did to you. Not to mention everything else." She pursed her lips. "Your sister _has _talked to him, has she not? And yet…"

"I'm sure Winter has spoken to him about it," Weiss said. "But if he can't prove it, it hardly matters what he knows."

"Still." Willow stared at the TV, eyes smoldering. "From everything I've seen and heard, I thought Ironwood was a good man."

"The General has his priorities," Weiss said, shrugging. "He has to do what he thinks is best for the country, and whether we're happy about it is of little consequence to him."

Her mother shook her head, unsatisfied with Weiss' answer even if she could see her point. Weiss couldn't blame her, having more than a few objections about the General herself, but there was nothing she could do at this point except be frustrated. And she was tired of being frustrated.

Weiss took a deep breath. "Winter will take care of things," she said, and stood up. "Let me take these plates to the kitchen."

"We hire staff for a reason, you know," Willow said, raising an eyebrow. "Unless you're _that _desperate for a paycheck?"

"Yes, yes, we've gone through this." Weiss sighed. "Hand it over."

Willow handed her plate to Weiss without further objection. She was more amused than anything, having given up on this argument after the first couple times.

"Questionable partnerships notwithstanding, couldn't the General have come up with a less… _tacky_ approach to protecting the country?" Willow said, rolling her eyes. "A giant robot, really?"

"You'd be surprised. Some people love that sort of thing," Weiss said, a bitter smile shaping her lips. "But yes. It's exceptionally unnecessary. Atlas, the whole world, is in good hands already."

It hurt to say, but it was the truth. She wasn't going to be saving any lives anymore, but that didn't mean the world was going to end. The faster she accepted that, the less it would hurt. And she liked to think she was doing a good job of accepting things.

Weiss picked up her own plate and walked away. She stopped at the doorway and looked back at her mother, who had already changed the channel and become engrossed by something less dreary than the news, before she left.

It was strange. Weiss would have thought their relationship would strain even more after their… moment in the garden, but that was far from what had happened. She'd been spending a lot of time with her mother since then, and it hadn't all been difficult. It was almost sad how easy it was to enjoy her mother's company. Sad, because how much time had they lost before that? How much of that had been Weiss' fault?

That wasn't to say that everything was perfect. There had been many times when Weiss had had to step away and be alone for a while. Her mother hadn't stopped drinking, though she was making an effort to do it less in front of her. Sweet as that was, Weiss wished Willow would do it for her own sake, instead of only hers.

Maybe Weiss could help her with that. Her mother was doing her best to cheer her up, it was only fair that Weiss returned that kindness somehow.

As she made her way towards the kitchen, a door opened, and Whitley stepped out into the hallway. They made eye contact for a split second, before Weiss lowered her gaze to the floor. She dodged around Whitley and kept on walking without a word.

"Hey."

Weiss stopped in her tracks, nearly dropping the plates, so surprised she was, and turned around. As was customary, Whitley looked supremely affronted by the sight of her, and Weiss stiffened in reflex. A heated remark jumped to the tip of her tongue, and she almost let it loose before she forced it back down.

"I've moved into your former work office," Whitley said.

"Okay?" Weiss said, unsure how to respond. Was he trying to gloat, or just make her feel bad? "That's… great, for you. It's got a nice view." She forced a smile. "If you like skyscrapers, that is!"

Her attempt at humor went unappreciated, as Whitley crossed his arms and grunted. "I'm telling you because you didn't bother to clear it before you left," he said. "I imagine some of those things might be important to you, so I'm giving you an opportunity to retrieve them."

"Oh." Weiss blinked. "That's… very considerate of you."

"Yes, it is, though I don't care for your compliments," Whitley said. "You can do that today, or else I'll throw everything in the trash tomorrow morning."

He started walking away.

"Wait!" Weiss called. "When do you leave for work?"

"In an hour," Whitley said, stopping. "Why?"

"Can I ride with you?" Weiss said, and a second later asked herself why she would suggest such a thing. "I, uh, usually flew to the HQ. And we're going the same place anyway." _And on the way there, we'll be forced to talk to each other, and I'll fix everything!_

Right, there it was. The old Weiss Schnee arrogance. Maybe she wasn't doing as well as she thought.

Whitley put his hands on hips and sighed. "_Fine_," he said. "But _don't_ be late."

* * *

"Do they _always _smell this bad?" Jaune asked, twisting his nose as he stared at the covered corpse on the table. He felt like he was being rude, after all, what was a bit of a bad smell compared to being dead? _He_ wasn't on the table, so if anything he should feel grateful. That didn't change the fact that he was locked in combat with his stomach, trying not to lose his breakfast.

"As a matter of fact, no. They usually smell much worse. These ones have been treated already," Winter said. "Haven't you had to deal with bodies in your line of work?"

"Not really? I kill Grimm, and Grimm don't leave bodies behind," Jaune said.

Winter looked at him dubiously. "And human casualties?"

"Well, we try our hardest not to let those happen," Jaune said, and raised an open hand. "That's kinda my specialty, actually. My _real _superpower." He coughed. "Point is, I don't like… you know, bodies."

Winter nodded and turned away, clearly disinterested in chatting with him. If someone had told Jaune a month ago that he would be alone with Winter Schnee in some military-owned morgue, he wouldn't have believed them.

"So, why do I need to be here again?" he asked, unable to bear the silence.

"Make no mistake, I don't usually allow outsiders to work with me. But you have a unique perspective on everything that's happened, which might be helpful to proving my case," Winter said. "The General won't accept this easily, so I'll take any help I can get."

"See, you say _helpful_, which is not the same thing as _essential_," Jaune said, raising a finger. "So maybe I don't need to be here, after all. Besides, I didn't sign up for this, you just kinda assumed I'd help you."

"Forgive me, it didn't occur to me that you'd have someplace else you need to be," Winter said, and set on him a harsh glare. "Well?"

"…Okay, I _don't _have anything else going on. But that doesn't mean I want to be here, with…" Jaune gestured at the corpse and shook his head. "You don't want me here anyway. Trust me, I'll probably find some way to screw everything up."

"Is that so? Perhaps it was my mistake, then," Winter said. "I assumed I'd be working with a Huntsman, not some insecure boy."

Jaune blinked. "Wait, I – where did you get that idea?"

Winter didn't say another word, only gestured at the door and turned away, her hands at her back. Jaune could only stare blankly at the air, paralyzed by confusion and, most of all, shame. Why _wouldn't _Winter assume he was a functional adult? He knew he didn't give people the best of impressions, but otherwise-

The door opened, and in walked General Ironwood. Winter stood at attention immediately, and he nodded at her, before he noticed Jaune and frowned.

"Agent Arc," he greeted, offering a hand.

"H-hi, Sir. General, I mean," Jaune said, taking his hand and shaking it, perhaps a little too quickly. "And I'm not an Agent anymore. These days I just go by… uh, Jaune."

"I see," Ironwood said. "Well, it's a pleasure to finally meet you, properly that is. You and your team do excellent work." He let go of Jaune's hand and looked at Winter with a question in his eyes.

"_Mister Arc_ is assisting me with the Flynt Coal case. I thought it would be opportune for him to be here for this," Winter said, and gestured for the General to come closer to the table. "I know you were the first to hear about this, but I wanted you to see with your own eyes."

She took off the tarp covering the corpse, and Jaune flinched at the sight of Flynt Coal. His eyes were closed, arms crossed over his chest – he could have passed off to be sleeping, if it weren't for the state of the entire backside of his body, destroyed by severe burns and missing flesh and skin.

"So it's true," Ironwood said, crossing his arms. "Well, at least we can stop worrying about where he is and what he might be scheming." He sighed. "But you wouldn't have called me here if things were so simple. I assume you have a lot more to inform me of. Go ahead."

Winter nodded. "Five nights ago, a small-scale Dust explosion occurred in a roadside settlement to the far north of the capital. It originated from a house on the outskirts, which was demolished in the blast. The locals reported the explosion to the closest police station. Emergency services arrived in the early morning, and shortly dug the body of Flynt Coal out of the rubble. Once the body was identified, the Army was notified, and a team was sent to retrieve it."

Jaune shuddered. Winter's explanation sounded so clinical, it couldn't do justice to what had actually happened to Flynt, whatever that had been. A man was dead. A man not that much older than Jaune.

"Coal suffered heavy injuries from the blast itself, but evidence points that it was the collapse of the house that ultimately killed him," Winter said. "Yet Coal was known to have Aura, which should have protected him from all of that. A death like that was, at worst, improbable."

"You're implying there were other factors at hand?" Ironwood said.

"A later autopsy revealed systemic nerve damage so severe it would have likely killed him anyway, should he have survived the incident," Winter said. "And a Semblance-suppressing collar was removed from around his neck."

Ironwood frowned, that information apparently being new to him. Winter moved away from the table and Flynt, to the next table, and the body resting atop it. She removed the tarp covering it, and Jaune looked away sharply, holding his stomach. That person, whoever they were, was in even worse shape than Flynt. _Much _worse.

"Another body was dug out of the rubble a day after. Our team retrieved it as well, and eventually it was identified as one Viola Varga," Winter said. "That name ring any bells, General?"

After a moment's thinking, Ironwood shook his head.

"She was one of ours," Winter said. "A cadet in her fifth year of service. She had a sordid past before she enlisted, from what I've had time to gather."

"One of ours," Ironwood repeated, his expression growing graver by the second. "I don't suppose she happened to stumble upon Coal. Or did she track him down on her own?"

"She was in the squad responsible for transferring Coal. Or she would have been, if she hadn't called in sick that day," Winter said. "I took the liberty of interrogating that squad again, Sir. As you know, they're a tight-knit group, and they often work under Captain Cordovin. This time, some of them elected to share that Viola, in particular, was rather close to the good Captain. Cordovin was a mentor to her, and was the one who got her to enlist in the first place."

Ironwood stepped back, a look on his face like he didn't want to believe what he was hearing. While he was silent, Winter covered Viola's body again.

"Are you implying, Winter, that Captain Cordovin sent this woman after Coal explicitly to kill him?" the General said.

"No. I believe she may have had another objective, but his execution might not have been out of the table," Winter said. "Mister Arc, I'd like you to share what you found in your investigation."

Both she and the General turned to look at Jaune, and he became more squeamish than when he'd had to look at the bodies. But despite the pressure – or maybe exactly because of it – he found the strength to speak

"Okay. So," he started. "Weiss asked me to help her investigate Flynt, because she wanted to know why he tried to kill her. So I, uh, sorta invaded the SDC network, and what I eventually found was…"

* * *

Corban wiped his pistol on the edge of his shirt for the fiftieth time that day.

Jacques Schnee had been on the news this morning. He'd been in the news several times this week, gloating and gloating and gloating about that new Colossus monstrosity of his that was supposed to be the salvation of Atlas. But the revelation of what Corban needed to do to that smarmy bastard had only come upon him this morning.

Corban had other ideas. Breaking into the Schnee Manor to kill Jacques had been one of them. That one had the potential bonus of the rest of the family being around. The perfect revenge. But Corban wasn't sure he could pull that off, with the security the place must have. The SDC was another target, but it suffered from the same problem. He would never make it past the front door.

But none of that mattered. Corban knew what he had to do now.

Jacques Schnee would be dead by the end of the day.

* * *

The General fell silent for a long while after Jaune finished his recounting and Winter concluded her thoughts.

Jaune looked at Winter, afraid that he might have said too much – had she wanted Ironwood to know the extent of Weiss' role in Flynt's escape? – but if she regretted letting him speak, she wasn't showing it.

"This… is a lot," Ironwood said. He looked at the phone Winter had handed him, reading the file Jaune had retrieved from the SDC network once more. "Are you absolutely sure this is legitimate, Winter?"

"I cannot be sure, Sir, but I'm confident it is," Winter said. "I can't for certain prove that Cordovin wrote that order, but the timeline and her motivations add up. I would need to interrogate her to get a conclusive resolution."

Ironwood handed her phone back, his expression grim. "Run me through your full theory again."

Winter looked at Viola Varga's concealed corpse for a moment, as if ordering her thoughts, before she nodded and faced the General.

"We know Corban Coal used to work for the SDC. He researched Semblances, and they – Jacques Schnee, particularly - were interested in the commercial ramifications of that research," Winter said. "But Corban disagreed with that philosophy and refused to do as they asked. They pressured him, but he did not cave. So one day, Jacques decides that drastic measures need to be taken."

"He gets in contact with a military acquaintance, Caroline Cordovin, already a Captain at that time. She produces an unsanctioned order for the SDC – and ultimately Corban – to turn over the research. In return, she'll be on the short list to get a Semblance. Cordovin wants only to protect her great nation the best she can – and the glory that comes with that."

"But once again, Corban refuses to comply. He takes his research, his wife, and his newborn baby and flees the city. Jacques and Cordovin panic. The latter sends a squad to apprehend Corban, but before they can get to him, his escape ends in a crash. His wife dies, Corban and the baby are never found. They are presumed dead. The whole incident gets swept under the rug."

Jaune looked at Winter, astonished that she'd been able to pierce all of that together in less than a week. How she hadn't collapsed under the stress of it all was a mystery to him.

"Fast forward to last month," Winter continued. "Flynt Coal seemingly rises from the dead, attacking Weiss Schnee in the heart of Atlas, right under Jacques' nose. But he doesn't panic for long. He comes to the realization that if Flynt is alive, and he has a Semblance, then that can only mean Corban survived the crash as well. He is alive somewhere, with the technology to give someone a Semblance, and he knows what Jacques did."

"Jacques gets in contact with Cordovin again – she has as much of an interest in getting rid of Flynt as he does. But Jacques won't settle for having Flynt silenced, which would have been the cleanest solution to their problem. No, he wants the research too. So he tells Cordovin to do what he wants, or else he'll remove her from the Colossus program."

She paused to gauge Ironwood's reaction, but he only nodded for her to go on.

"So Cordovin comes up with a plan. She's in charge of relocating Flynt to a facility outside the city, but the vehicle and squad transporting him will never get there," Winter said. "Cordovin _wanted _him to break out. She sent the vehicle on an isolated route, and programmed a small EMP device to stop it along the way. So either Flynt gets killed trying to escape, which would solve some of her problems at least, or he gets away with his life, not knowing that Viola Varga is following right behind him, and he's leading her right to his father's doorstep."

"But that's… that's crazy," Jaune said, frowning. "What about Weiss? She just _happened _to get there at that exact moment?"

"Yes. And without knowing it, she turned out to be exactly what Cordovin needed," Winter said. "The plan was never going to work. Cordovin did what she could with the time and resources she had, which were few. She was panicking. We _would _have found out what she'd done. But Weiss created enough confusion about what had happened, that Cordovin got away with it."

Jaune rubbed his forehead, perplexed. A small part of him regretted that Weiss wasn't here to hear what damage her actions had wrought. Another part of him was relieved. He didn't know which one made him feel worse.

"Over the course of three weeks, Viola followed Flynt, unseen. We don't know exactly what transpired when he got home, but a confrontation must have taken place," Winter said, and gestured at the two bodies. "And this was the result of it."

"What about Corban? If your theory is correct and he's been alive all these years, where is he now?" Ironwood asked.

"That, I cannot say, Sir. Perhaps he wasn't home when Flynt got there. Perhaps he was caught in the blast too, and there was nothing of him to be found after," Winter said. "I realize that leaves a glaring hole in my theory, Sir. But I'm still confident I'm right about this."

Ironwood tapped his fingers against the morgue table.

"Let's say you're correct, and Cordovin went behind my back to commit these crimes," he said. "How do you suggest we go about rectifying this situation?"

Winter's face shone with relief. "I've already got compelling evidence from the transport squad's interrogations, as well as what I've presented you here. I'll only need to interrogate Cordovin personally, then I believe I'll be able to put the proverbial last nail to the coffin," she said. "She will confess, Sir, if only because she won't be able to live with the shame of treason."

Ironwood nodded. "And Jacques?"

"Jacques." Winter crossed her arms. "He's not quite within our sphere of influence, and he's got the resources to fight us for however long. Bringing him to justice won't be so easy. Even if Cordovin names him as an accomplice, that won't be enough." She paused. "Which is why I suggest we don't bring her in right away. I want to give her the idea that I might be up to what she's been doing. Make her sweat. If we're lucky, she'll get in contact with Jacques, and then we'll have an undisputable connection between the two, and we can work from there."

Jaune stepped back and grinned, releasing a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. Winter had thought this through, it seemed, and if her plan went right, Cordovin _and _Jacques would be in prison someday soon. And… he'd helped put them there. Not a whole lot, but the little he'd helped was enough.

"I'm afraid we cannot go through with this, Winter," Ironwood said, and Jaune felt his smile fade in a moment. "Not now. Not for a long time."

Winter faltered, her eyebrows furrowing as she stared at the General. "Sir?"

"We just announced Captain Cordovin as the Colossus' pilot. She's supposed to give a public demonstration next week, and she won't be so easily replaced at such a short notice. Moreover, what do you think the people of Atlas would say if she was imprisoned and branded a traitor?" Ironwood said. "We've talked about this, Winter. These are fragile times, and we _cannot _afford to have the people lose their trust in us." He raised a hand. "We will deal with Cordovin eventually. But not now."

"I… understand, Sir. You're right, the safety of Atlas comes first," Winter said. "And Jacques?"

"It's the same with him," Ironwood said. "He's too close to the Colossus project. And we couldn't arrest him without arresting Cordovin first."

Winter nodded faintly, her fists hanging limply at her sides. The fire in her eyes had gone out, her lips set in a displeased line – but she said nothing at all.

"No. This _isn't_ right," Jaune said suddenly. "_You_ are wrong."

Ironwood turned to look at him, and Jaune didn't know who was more surprised by his outburst. Winter raised her head, her eyes darting from him to the General.

"I mean," Jaune said, scratching his chin. "You're, uh, you're an okay guy. But I don't think that's… cool of you?"

Ironwood stared at him, unimpressed. "Your assistance in this case is appreciated, Mister Arc, but I don't think this is any of your business anymore."

"Yeah. No. You've, eh, got a point. Army stuff, I'm not…" Jaune gulped. "I'll just leave now."

He took three steps towards the door, already raising his hand to pull it open, before suddenly he stopped. He felt a chill prickling on the back of his neck, and as he looked over his shoulder, he found his gaze being drawn, without a hope of resistance, to the exposed body of Flynt Coal. Laid on a metal table in some unfamiliar place, cold, alone. What once had been a person, now reduced to just a _thing_. A life taken away and soon to be forgotten – and who should care?

"Actually." Jaune lowered his hand and turned around. "Here's what I think."

He cared. He _still_ cared.

Ironwood sighed. "I thought I made it clear that-"

"Stop. I want to say something, and I'd like you to listen," Jaune said. He paused, steeling himself. "You _are _going to listen."

Ironwood scowled, exasperation turning into real anger, but he did nothing to shut Jaune down. Beside him, Winter studied Jaune with an odd sharpness in her eyes.

"You say the safety of Atlas comes first. And that's fair," Jaune said. "But you know what I see? I see you working with a man who would throw his family away like they're nothing, to build a giant death robot which – awesome as it is – could get as many people killed as any pack of Grimm. I see a guy who got his whole life screwed up when he was just a baby, _dead_." He pointed at Flynt. "And I see you looking the other way about the woman who got him killed. Not because it's safe. But because it's _convenient _for you."

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Ironwood said. "I have the security of an entire nation to account for. Your idealism is admirable, but there is a thin line between that and naivete that you couldn't appreciate unless you were in my position."

"Yeah, you're right. I'm not some bigshot general. I'm not even an agent of Beacon anymore. But you know what I am? I'm a guy who kills monsters for a living," Jaune said. "And if there's one thing I know, it's that if you want to protect people, you gotta do it right. No compromises."

Ironwood glowered at him, a fury so intense Jaune could practically feel it in the air between them. He wondered if he hadn't made a big mistake, talking so harshly to a man of Ironwood's position, but as terrified as he was, he couldn't regret it. Even if it ruined everything for him, he was doing the right thing.

The silence lasted nearly a minute, before Ironwood huffed and lowered his head. He rubbed his forehead for a moment, then finally looked at Winter. "Carry on with your plan. But I will be expecting results, Operative."

"Yes, Sir," Winter said swiftly. "Of course."

Ironwood exited the morgue without another word, not sparing Jaune a glance as he walked past him. As the door closed behind him, Jaune nearly collapsed to the floor, only staying on his feet because he had the quick thought to brace his back against the wall behind him.

Breathless, he raised his head just enough to watch as Winter covered Flynt's body again. Her appearance was professional as ever, and she regarded her task with the deserved respect – but if he looked carefully enough, he could swear she had a hint of a smile on her lips.

"That wasn't so bad after all, now was it?" Winter said once she was finished, and turned to look at Jaune. "Good work, Arc."

He mumbled something halfway in between a _thank you_ and a _you're welcome_, and she walked past him to leave.

"Wait," Jaune spoke suddenly as she opened the door. "Did you bring me here _because_-"

But Winter had already left. Jaune groaned. _Goddamn Schnee women_. _The whole lot of them._

He pushed himself off the wall and stayed with Flynt a minute more, before he too left the morgue.

* * *

Weiss and Whitley didn't talk at all on the way to the SDC.

They didn't talk when they walked into the building.

They didn't talk as they waited inside the elevator.

They didn't talk when they got to her office, which was now his office. He just unlocked the door, pushed it open, and then gestured inside. Weiss walked through the doorway and stopped in the middle of the room, looking around without knowing what to do next.

She hadn't been able to decide whether she ought to be sad or angry when she got here, but now she only felt uncomfortable. Out of place. An invader in a place where she no longer belonged.

She heard the door start to close and whirled around. "Wait!"

Whitley held the door ajar, studying her coolly.

"You… You couldn't possibly stay and help me sort through things, could you?" Weiss asked, and she hated how small she sounded. "Just for a little while?"

"I have a job to do," Whitley replied placidly. "Your former job. So _no_."

"Well I was only-"

Weiss cut herself short, bringing her hands up in front of her before slowly lowering them. She accompanied the motion with a deep breath, and when she was done, she didn't feel better, but she didn't feel like grabbing Whitley by the throat anymore.

"You're right. I should know you have better things to be doing," Weiss said. "…Good luck with work."

Whitley started to close the door again.

"Wait!"

"What is it now, woman?!" Whitley exclaimed, sending the door rattling on its hinges as he opened it wide.

Weiss tried to gather herself in her panic. She didn't know exactly why she had stopped Whitley a second time. She didn't know what she wanted to say. She only knew that she'd spent too much of her life saying the wrong things, and when she wasn't doing that, she was saying nothing at all. That needed to change. And it needed to change _now_.

"Whitley, do you _actually_ want this job?" she asked.

"Okay, this is useless," Whitley said. "I'm leaving now."

"No, please! Whitley, I just want to talk with you," Weiss said, walking over quickly and putting a hand on the door before he could try to close it. "I just want us to have a conversation. A real conversation, for five minutes, without us wanting to wrangle each other's throats by the end of it. Can we do that for once?"

Whitley regarded her, still _very_ annoyed, but he didn't walk away.

"Look. I don't know how much of it was real, but I _was _trying to help you, before… before everything that happened," Weiss said. "And I'd asked you. I'd asked you if you wanted to work here, or if you wanted to do something else. I asked you to think about it, and I never got an answer. And I need that answer now, because I'm not going to walk away from here until I'm sure you're not going to make yourself miserable living a lie. I _meant it_ when I'd said you'd have me, no matter what."

"What else do you expect me to do, pray tell?" Whitley said. "This is the family business. It's what I'm supposed to be doing."

"No, you're _supposed_ to be doing what you want," Weiss said.

"Have you considered the possibility that not everyone is as tormented by their lot in life as you are?" Whitley scoffed. "You had a chance to walk away. You had _several_ chances, and you stayed anyway. But that hasn't stopped you from agonizing about it."

"You're right. Maybe I should have left. But this isn't about me, it's about you," Weiss said. "_Answer the question_, Whitley."

It was clear to Weiss that the only thing stopping Whitley from walking away was his own pride. He scowled and glared and scoffed at her, and avoided speaking his heart as if to do so would be the death of him, but he stayed. It brought Weiss no joy to see him like that, but she was relieved. She didn't want to have to chase him down and force him, which she would do, for his sake.

"Why do you care, anyway? You've always hated me, why's that suddenly changed?" Whitley said.

"What?" Weiss flinched. "That's – that's ridiculous! I don't hate you, why would you ever think that?"

"Oh, am I supposed to forget our whole childhood, then? How you've always acted like you'd be so much happier if I didn't exist?" Whitley said. "Or maybe I'm wrong about that too. Maybe you know better, like you always do."

"I've never hated you, Whitley! I only acted that way because… because you're _annoying_! Because _I_ find you annoying! And I'm supposed to, just like you're supposed to find me an insufferable know-it-all!" Weiss said. "We're siblings, not blood-sworn enemies. Where did you get that idea?"

Weiss knew exactly where he'd gotten that idea. And so did Whitley.

They stood in silence, Weiss in her former office, Whitley in the hallway, and they as much avoided eye contact as they made it.

"I'm supposed to be in a meeting," Whitley said quietly, and walked away. Weiss made to follow him, but stopped at the doorway. She could try to catch up, but he wouldn't stop even if she called his name a hundred times.

And she didn't want to hurt him.

Shoulders slumped, Weiss stepped back into the office and closed the door.

* * *

Winter stepped off her glyph, her boots sinking into the thin layer of snow on the grass outside the base. It hadn't taken her long to get there – the complex was not that far from the city, and she'd left for it as soon as preparations were done. She had taps on all of Cordovin's communication lines now, save for any personal devices – those would take more time and finesse, but she would get to them – and trusted colleagues watching Cordovin's residence and frequented locations. If the captain did anything suspicious, Winter would know right away.

A part of her wondered if she ought to be more patient. Winter wasn't one to move too fast, especially with cases of this sensitivity. But somewhere along the way, this had become personal to her – probably when she'd made the connection between Cordovin and Jacques.

But her personal feelings didn't matter. She would have acted fast regardless. General Ironwood was right to worry about the ramifications of Cordovin's arrest, and though he hadn't expressed so, Winter had worked with him long enough to intuit that, if it had to happen, he'd rather she do it sooner rather than later.

That was how she was justifying her actions, at least.

No one bothered her as she entered the base proper. She checked Cordovin's location with the front desk, then took the elevator down to the hangar. The base had long served as the primary launching and landing point for personnel coming in and out of the capital, but it had been repurposed months ago once the construction of the Colossus had begun. A vehicle of that size couldn't be kept just anywhere, after all – and certainly not within the city itself.

Winter saw the Colossus as soon as she came out of the elevator. Standing tall on a platform at the very end of an otherwise empty grand hall, a hulking metal giant with a heart of live Dust somewhere inside it, it was impossible to miss. Never having cared to inquire about the specifics, Winter now wondered what manners of weapons lay hidden within the Colossus. She was sure they were as excessive as its size.

As Winter had been told, Cordovin was standing before the Colossus, craning her neck back to take in all of it. She was dazzled, almost as if she were seeing it for the first time, though Winter had a feeling that couldn't be farther from the truth. She wouldn't be surprised to learn that Cordovin had been coming here daily just to admire that monstrosity.

"Captain," Winter said, stopping beside her.

Cordovin jumped in fright, though her face lit up at once when she saw who was greeting her. "Operative Schnee! What a pleasant surprise! What are you doing here, if I may ask?"

"I had business in the area, and it occurred to me that I never congratulated you for the honor," Winter said, and nodded at the Colossus. "I must admit, I'm almost jealous."

"Ah, yes, it is quite the beauty, isn't it? Magnificent, even! And powerful, too. As long as I pilot it, no threat to Atlas shall stand!" Cordovin declared, smiling widely. "But you shouldn't feel jealous, Operative. You are powerful enough on your own, and doubly as astute and graceful! I can only hope to match you, once I'm up there!"

"…Of course," Winter said, gritting her teeth. "I'm not sure I deserve it to such a degree, but I appreciate the flattery… Captain." She paused. "I also wanted to wish you good luck with your demonstration next week."

"Oh, I'm sure it'll go swimmingly!"

As if forgetting all about her, Cordovin turned back to the Colossus, eyes glimmering with admiration, and Winter had to stop herself from punching the woman on the back of her neck. _This _was what she'd killed a man for, maybe two, and she was nearly in tears over the joy she felt.

"One more thing," Winter said, hiding her fists behind her back. "You wouldn't have happened to hear from Viola Varga recently?"

Cordovin stiffened, and a second too late, turned to look at Winter again, an uneasy smile on her lips. "Viola Varga, you say?"

"Yes. I believe she's one of your cadets?" Winter said. "It came to my attention that she hasn't reported in for weeks. Should we be worried, Captain?"

"She hasn't? Viola, yes, she's one of mine – ah, I remember now!" Cordovin said. "Viola had been dealing with some problems of a personal nature – family stuff, I'm sure you understand. Along with the demands of the job, it was proving to be too much for her, so I allowed her a paid leave of duty until she has everything sorted."

"All that for a mere cadet?" Winter said. "Well, you know her, so I'll have to defer to your judgement. But you should take a look at the situation, Captain – if I hadn't brought this to you now, she might have found herself in a great deal of trouble when she returned."

"Yes, yes. I must have forgotten to put in the proper paperwork, in all the excitement…" Cordovin said. "Thank you, Operative."

"It's nothing," Winter said. "Whatever Viola is dealing with now… Well, we wouldn't her to return from _that_, to bad news, now would we, Captain?

Putting on a smile, she held Cordovin's gaze for a moment, and watched as the Captain struggled to hide the terror that was slowly coming over her.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," Winter said. "I have business to see to. Have a good day, Caroline."

She turned and walked away. When she looked over her shoulder and caught a last glimpse of Cordovin scurrying away in a panic, the smile that came to her lips wasn't faked.

_Check_.

* * *

Cordovin all but burst into the hallway, her breath short as she tried to come to terms with what was happening.

Winter Schnee knew. She _knew_. Maybe not everything, but some of it. She had to. Why else would she have come all this way to talk to her about Varga? Cordovin hadn't heard from the cadet for days now, and now the General's favorite was breathing down her neck. Those were not coincidences.

Cordovin kept marching down the hallway, not caring how frenzied she looked to any who might see her. She passed by a janitor coming out of a supply closet, and he gave her such a glare she should have stopped and addressed him for showing such blatant disrespect towards a Captain. But she had worse things to worry about, so she kept walking.

Winter was laying down a trap, that couldn't be more obvious. She had brought up Varga to rattle her, force her to make a move to incriminate her further. But it didn't matter that Cordovin saw that move for what it was – Winter would only resort to such a bold tactic if she already had enough evidence against her.

Cordovin had no choice, then. She had to at least _try _to get herself out of trouble – out of the country might be her only option at this point, as much as the idea pained her. And for that, she would need help.

Jacques Schnee. He had put her in this situation in the first place, and he was going to get her out of it if he knew what was good for him. She didn't care if it all backfired and he went down with her. If she was going down, so was he.

She paused in the middle of the hallway and reached for her phone, ready to call the bastard right away – only to hear a faint humming behind her, and a moment later, she felt the warmth of a Dust pistol pressing against the back of her neck.

"Don't move."

"What in the name of-" Cordovin moved her head just enough to see the person behind her, and her cheeks flared with rage as she saw the janitor she'd passed by not a minute earlier. "Who in the hell are you and what do you think you're doing? Do you know who I am? I'll have you thrown in a cell for the rest of your life for this, and that's if you're lucky, you-"

Her voice left her as she noticed the scars that marred the left side of the janitor's face, and the uncanny resemblance he had to a man that had recently been her prisoner.

_The boy's father. He's come to take his revenge._

"I… would lower that, if I were you," Cordovin stammered. "Whatever you want, I'm sure we can work something out. Think about it, it can't be worth killing a woman of my station… surely."

"You're the one they chose to pilot that thing, right?" Corban said. "Wouldn't be surprised if they made it so you're the only one who can operate it. Am I correct?"

"You're not… entirely wrong," Cordovin said. "What's that mean to you?"

"I want to take it for a ride. And you're going to help me."

Cordovin gasped. "Absolutely not! If you think I'm going to help you-"

He grabbed the back of her shirt and pulled her towards him, pressing his pistol so hard against her neck that her skin started to burn at the contact.

"Have you ever seen what a point-blank blast from a Dust pistol will do to a person's spine?"

Cordovin shuddered. He didn't know who she was – not exactly. He didn't know she had sent someone after his son. He didn't know she was partly responsible for his wife's death.

Maybe she had a chance of coming out of this in one piece, then.

"…We'll have to go back the way I came."

* * *

"She's terrified," Winter spoke into her phone. "I'll let her stay that way for a while. She'll do something reckless soon enough, probably make contact with Jacques." She paused. "Would I be asking too much to put surveillance on him?"

"_We can't just yet, Winter. He's a civilian, and a powerful one at that_," Ironwood responded. "_We'll need solid ground to take any action against him. But your plan is sound – stay the course, and we will have them both where we want them_."

"Of course, Sir," Winter said, and summoned a glyph flat against the ground a couple meters ahead of her. "I'll be patient. Thank you for trusting me."

"_You've given me no reason not to._"

He hung up, and Winter put her phone away. She reached her glyph and put her right foot on it, only to pause as she felt a rumbling beneath her. She stepped back, unmaking the glyph with a flick of her wrist, and turned around to look at the base. Other people outside seemed to have noticed the rumbling too, and they were shouting at each other as they tried to figure out what was going on.

Before Winter could start walking back towards the base, the rumbling came to its peak, and the concrete runway that had once seen dozens of jets take off from started to open from the center. Winter watched in astonishment as the head of the Colossus emerged, followed shortly by the rest of its body, all raised by the platform it rested upon in the hangar. A half minute passed, and then it started to move.

It was walking towards the city.

Winter jumped onto a glyph and quickly soared upwards until she was level with the head. She flew around to the front and tried to see into the cockpit, but the glass was dark from the outside.

"Captain Cordovin! What do you think you're doing?" she yelled, hoping she could be heard. "You are walking _towards_ the city! I'm going to have to ask you to turn around and walk the Colossus back to the base!"

She waited a moment, but no response came. Grunting in frustration, Winter conjured another glyph on her right hand and morphed it into a club, then launched towards the cockpit, intending to break inside it. But her blow bounced off harmlessly – not off the glass, but off an invisible barrier surrounding it.

Winter flew back, rolling her shoulder. Of course, the Colossus had been designed to combat Grimm – it was only logical that the pilot should be protected at all times.

"Captain, I'm not going to ask again! Turn. Around!" she yelled.

The Colossus did not stop, forcing Winter to keep floating ahead at a distance. She cursed herself for not having brought Dust with her. If she had, she could have infused her Semblance with it and broken through the barrier much easier. As it stood, she would have to do it the hard way.

She grasped her ephemeral club in both hands and bent her knees, prepared to throw herself against the cockpit again and again until she got through – but she didn't have to, as the Colossus came to a slow halt, crushing the ground under its feet.

"_This is your only warning, Operative!_" Cordovin's voice transmitted shrilly off the Colossus. "_Move aside, or I – or _he _will be forced to move you!_"

"He?" Winter said. "Caroline - who's with you in there?"

But an answer never came. Instead, a panel lifted atop the Colossus' right shoulder, and a second later Winter was faced with a dozen rocket missiles shooting towards her. She turned her club back into a glyph and held it in front of her just in time to block.

The blasts sent shockwaves through her body, but the glyph held, and she was anchored by the one beneath her. Smoke surrounded her on all sides, though, forcing her to cover her nose with her arm while she waited and planned a counterattack.

She waited too long, however – as the smoke started to dissipate, she felt a rush of air and saw a metal hand five times her size coming towards her. Winter braced herself-

And an instant later, she was plummeting towards the ground.

* * *

"You brainless maniac, do you realize what you've done? You just shot down a Special Operative of the Atlesian Army!"

Corban ignored the Captain's screeching behind him. He scoured the myriad of screens on the panel in front of him, trying to pinpoint the Schnee's location, but she seemed to have fallen in one of the Colossus' blindspots. So be it – if he happened to accidentally step on her, he would consider it good fortune.

"That was Winter Schnee, the General's right-hand woman!" Cordovin said, shuffling over to his side and pushing on his arm, despite her tied-up wrists. "If you weren't dead before, you certainly are now! And you're taking me with you, you-"

"Quiet down!" Corban shoved her, and she ended up on the ground. Before she could get up again, he picked up his pistol and pointed it at her face. "I couldn't care less about killing a Schnee. Good riddance, I say! Now…" He settled into his seat. "Get back to explaining how this thing works."

"No," Cordovin muttered from the ground. "I'm not helping you."

"Are you going to grow a backbone now, you screeching hag?" Corban snarled. "What's done is done! All you can do now is help me pilot this thing and reduce the number of casualties – because I'd rather not destroy the whole city to get my justice, but I'll do it if I have to." He paused. "Or I can toss you out from this height. Is that the honorable end you'd prefer?"

Cordovin scowled and shrunk in shame, but the fear in her eyes supplanted all else. She wasn't going to put up a fight beyond nagging him. And if her shrieking got too much, he would gladly silence her.

He set his sights on the nearby Atlas, and under the Captain's grudging guidance, started marching the Colossus towards it. Soon, he'd be inflicting his wrath on Jacques Schnee and everything he stood for, and it would be glorious.

_This is for you, son…_

* * *

In the end, Weiss didn't have much from the office she wished to take back home. She'd never been the type to decorate her workplace, and she certainly wasn't going to keep the piles of work files she'd accumulated and dutifully organized over the years. She'd somewhat enjoyed her old job – but not that much.

_Old job_. She supposed she ought to have accepted all of this already, but the reality of her situation was just sinking in now. Her time with the SDC was over. Her time as a Huntress as over. After that, what was she? Who was Weiss Schnee?

She felt lost, terrifyingly so, but perhaps this was for the best. This could be a chance for her to start over. She could spend time with her mother. She could play the piano and sing for the whole world, like she'd always wanted more than anything.

Swallowing dry, Weiss looked down at the mostly empty box on the desk before her. It was decided. She didn't need anything in this room – it was all going in the trash, and she'd do it herself.

She moved to pick up the box, but paused as she felt a light rumbling on the soles of her feet. Weiss looked around the room and frowned as the furniture started to shake, the rumbling intensifying until she was forced to grab onto the desk to keep from falling.

An earthquake? As far as she knew, earthquakes didn't happen in Atlas. She heard distant screams from the streets below and her mind sprang to the next natural conclusion – Grimm attack. Her first instinct was to fight. This was the heart of Atlas, and thousands of lives were at risk. But there was nothing she could. She was powerless, just one more innocent in the crowd.

And then she heard a sound like a hundred tons of metal crunching and jostling, and a moment later her window was blocked by a fraction of something too large for her to make out. As whatever the object was came to a halt in front of the building and the rumbling subsided, Weiss carefully walked to the window and looked up. She stared for a minute, unblinking, before she stepped back.

The Colossus.

Was it wrong that she wanted to laugh hysterically?

"_JACQUES SCHNEE!_" A voice boomed from above, unfamiliar to her even beyond the static and filtering. "_MY NAME IS CORBAN COAL. YOU KNOW ME. YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID. YOU KILLED MY WIFE, AND NOW YOU'VE KILLED MY SON._"

Weiss' heart fell. Flynt was dead? When; how? Was… Was she responsible for this?

"_I WANT ONE THING. I WANT YOU TO STEP OUT INTO THE OPEN. I WANT TO LOOK UPON THE MONSTER THAT DESTROYED MY FAMILY BEFORE I STOMP YOU INTO A PASTE. I WILL WAIT HERE FOR AS LONG AS IT TAKES. IF ANYONE TRIES TO STOP ME, I WILL NOT HESITATE TO VAPORIZE THEM. THE SAME WILL HAPPEN TO ANYONE ELSE WHO STEPS OUT OF THIS BUILDING._"

There was a momentary pause during which the whole world seemed to fall silent.

"_SHOW YOURSELF, SCHNEE!_"

Weiss stumbled back until she fell onto a chair. She could hear people shouting on the hallway outside, panicking as they tried to figure out what to do, but she could only sit numbly. There was no chance her father was going to do as Corban asked, and though the rational part of her mind agreed that he shouldn't, she hated him for it.

People were going to die because of him, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

"_SCHNEE!_"

Corban's voice echoed once more. The desk shook, and for a moment Weiss thought it would come apart, and she was irrationally angry at Corban for it. _Don't ruin my office._

Her brother's office.

_Whitley._

As if waking from a dream, Weiss blinked and jumped to her feet. In a second, she had her Scroll in hand, and another second later she was calling Whitley. Her heart threatened to explode with every unanswered beep, until-

"Whitley!" she shouted. "Where are you right now? Are you still in the building?"

"_I was in a meeting, I - where are _you_? Are you still here? Weiss?_" Whitley said, an uncharacteristic tremor in his voice.

"I'm still in your office," Weiss said, and despite everything, she felt calm. She had to be, she realized, because Whitley was afraid. "Listen to me, Whitley. I'm coming to get you. Which floor are you in right now?"

"_The twelfth?_" Whitley said. "_What are we going to do? He's not gonna wait forever, and f-_"

"I know. Don't worry about that right now," Weiss said. "After I get to you, we're going to go wait with everyone else in the lobby. That's the safest place to be. We're trapped, _but _there are people who can help us still. Winter is out there, and General Ironwood-"

"_SCHNEE!_"

Weiss winced.

"Okay, I'm leaving the office to get you now," Weiss said. "I'll stay on the phone, so you stay too. And ignore the-"

"_Father's calling me_," Whitley said, his voice taking on an entirely different fear. "_I need to go._"

"Wait, Whitley, don't-"

He hung up, and Weiss all but threw her Scroll on the ground. She curled her fists and leaned forward, wanting to scream off the top of her lungs, but she managed to keep her composure, somehow. Taking a deep breath, she turned towards the door and ran out of the room.

* * *

Jaune zipped up his backpack and hoisted it over his shoulder. He looked around the hotel room, almost feeling nostalgic now that he was leaving it behind. Those had been some good days he'd spent there, moping and… moping.

But it was time for him to leave. He didn't know if it was because of how he'd helped Winter earlier today, or just because enough time had passed that he didn't feel so defeated anymore, but he was ready. Not as ready as he could be, as his stomach still turned whenever he thought of coming back to the team. But ready enough.

He looked down at his airplane ticket, strictly to check that he had the right date and time of departure, and not at all to stall for another five minutes. He had decided he'd call Pyrrha before he boarded, to warn her he'd be in Vale soon. He wanted to tell her about everything in person, even if that way would be infinitely harder.

Jaune turned the ticket over and around, nodded twice, and sighed.

"Alright, Mister Huntsman," he said. "Time to-"

He nearly jumped out of his skin when his Scroll started beeping loudly in his pocket. He took it out, sure that he'd left it on silent, and that there were going to be no Grimm attacks nearby the last time he'd checked. To his surprise, he found a different kind of warning flashing on the screen.

IMMEDIATE EVACUATION NOTICE – ALL CITIZENS LEAVE DOWNTOWN

Jaune tapped the notification, and a number of reports of the incident, live or otherwise, opened up. He gasped as he recognized the form of the Colossus, and his heart skipped a beat when he realized what building it was planted in front of.

"But that's…"

His voice failed him as he looked at the images of the destruction the Colossus had caused. Entire streets uplifted by its massive steps, buildings torn by its passing – and the people caught in all of that, many in critical condition.

Setting his jaw, Jaune took off his backpack and threw the airplane ticket on the bed. He put his Scroll back in his pocket, picked up his sword, and left without a moment's hesitation.

* * *

Through sheer perseverance, Weiss made it to her father's floor. She'd had to push past practically half of the company's employees as they ran in droves towards the lobby, while Weiss ascended the building instead. Some people had even tried to turn her around, but she'd brushed them off without a word. She couldn't head to safety herself, not until she had her brother with her.

Luckily, Whitley had only been a couple floors above her when it started, and he would have had the same difficulty going up the building as her, so he couldn't be much far ahead. Still, in the time that it would take to catch up to him… Weiss shuddered to think what might happen. Jacques Schnee was the last person Whitley needed to be with right now.

Another "_SCHNEE!_" reverberated through the building as Weiss made it to her father's door. She ran into the waiting room – the secretary was already gone – and then burst into the office itself, slamming the door open with her shoulder. She slid to a halt in the middle of the room, a shout rising to her lips-

And froze, staring at her father and Whitley.

Jacques was standing behind his desk, his pale face reddening with rage as he laid eyes on her. Whitley was to his side, just an arm's reach away, but he had yet to notice Weiss' presence. His eyes were instead fixed on a small metal case on the desk, open towards him. He had one hand inside it, fingers closed around a cylindric object – a syringe, holding inside it a blueish, liquid substance.

"What… are you doing?" Weiss said. Her eyes knew what was in front of them, but the rest of her was lagging behind. "What is-"

"What are you doing here?" Jacques interrupted brusquely, slamming a hand on the desk. Whitley jumped and finally saw Weiss, a strangled noise escaping his mouth. "You insolent wench, why do you refuse to do as you're told and-"

"Is that _my serum_?" Weiss exclaimed, anger and disgust bubbling inside her as she looked from the syringe to her father. "It's not been a month and you've already – what the hell is wrong with you? And you're trying to give it to – Whitley, put that down!"

Whitley drew back, his hand shaking around the syringe. Weiss took a step towards him, raising a hand to take it from him, but stopped as his hold tightened and the fear in his face mingled with mistrust.

"Whitley," Weiss said slowly. "Put down. The serum. Now. It's not safe."

"I have to use it," Whitley said. "I have to stop that man outside."

"No, you _don't_. This is all _his _fault." Weiss pointed at her father. "You're not going to fix-"

"_SCHNEE!_"

"-what he's responsible for, and he can't make you."

"You'd rather we all die without a fight, then?" Jacques spat. "Don't listen to her. You're doing the right thing."

Weiss glared at him. "If this is about us making it out of this alive, then I'll use the serum. Hand it over, Whitley!"

"Do _not _do that," Jacques said. "You can hear it in her voice, she just wants it for herself. She can't stand the thought of you, rather than her, saving the day."

Weiss scoffed, expecting Whitley to immediately see through that lie and do as she told. Instead, her heart sank when he not only didn't let go of the syringe, but brought it closer to his arm, and with his other hand started to pull back his sleeve.

"Whitley, what he's saying is not true. You have to know that," Weiss said, watching helplessly. "I don't care about being the hero. That serum _isn't safe_. We don't even know if it _works_."

"But it's fine if _you _use it?" Whitley muttered.

"Yes, because if it kills me, at least it'll have been me and not you!" Weiss said. "I know I haven't been a good sister. And I _have _hurt you. But I'm trying to be better. I don't hate you. I-"

"She's _manipulating _you," Jacques said.

Weiss fell silent. She stared at Whitley, hoping to say with her eyes what she couldn't with words, and hoped that he would listen.

"_SCHNEE!_"

Whitley looked away. He opened his mouth, releasing a shaky breath, and slowly brought the syringe away from himself. Weiss sighed in relief-

Suddenly, Jacques turned and ripped the serum from Whitley's grasp, at the same time that he grabbed his arm. Whitley shouted and jerked away, but was unable to break free as his father lifted the syringe and prepared to sink it into him.

Weiss ran at them faster than she could think. She jumped onto the desk and threw herself at her father, tackling him with her whole body. She was thin and small, but he was old and hadn't seen a day of exercise in his life. They collapsed in a heap together, with Whitley falling just beside them, and the syringe between them.

The first to recover was Whitley, and with a quick glance at Weiss, he grabbed the serum and made to back away – but their father, possessed by a strength that could have only come from sheer pettiness, was up a second later and struck him in the face with the sole of his shoe. Losing his grasp on the syringe, Whitley fell on all fours, blood spilling from his nose onto the carpet.

Weiss tackled Jacques again, but he'd already grabbed the syringe. She grabbed his wrists with both hands and twisted a foot around his ankle, trying to topple him, but he held on stubbornly, refusing to let go or fall.

At the corner of her vision, Weiss saw Whitley get up and approach them, raising his hands before him as he tried to find an opening to help. She looked at him and shook her head, and in that moment her father managed to free one hand. He shoved it against her neck, and Weiss fell backwards and slammed against the desk, coughing violently.

Jacques stood fully, syringe in hand, and Weiss tried to shout for Whitley to get away. But she didn't have to – her brother had already retreated to the other side of the desk, and he was running his hands across its surface in search of something to use as a weapon, his eyes never leaving their father.

Jacques backed away into a corner of the room, looking from Weiss to Whitley, a contempt in his eyes like they were nothing more than a pair of aggravating animals. Suddenly, Weiss knew what he was about to do, and she shouted, "Don't!"

He threw the syringe aside, shattering it against a wall.

Weiss forgot how hard it was to breathe as she watched the serum spilling down the wall. Whitley came and lifted her up, pulling her away, but she felt numb.

"How…" Weiss said, looking at her father. "How petty can you be?"

"_SCHNEE!_"

Jacques shook his head.

"He's calling you, you coward! Step out there and finish this!" Weiss shouted, freeing herself from Whitley and stepping towards her father. "How many people are going to die because you couldn't own up to what you've done? Your _children_ are going to die, _you're_ going to die, and for what? Your _pride_?"

Jacques glared at her and adjusted his collar, as if the whole world wasn't burning down around them. "I refuse to be saved by you."

Weiss looked at him coldly for a moment, before she grabbed Whitley's wrist and walked out of the office with him in tow. She let go when they arrived in the hallway, and held him by the shoulders.

"Whitley, I need you to go to the lobby now," Weiss said. "You'll be safe there. Try and stay with the rest. But be smart, like I know you are."

Whitley frowned. "I don't understand. What about you?"

"I've got something I need to do first," Weiss said. "One last day on the job, you could say."

"Weiss-"

She bent forward and kissed him on the forehead. Whitley looked up at her, confused, scared, and for a moment it almost allowed her to forget how angry she was.

"_SCHNEE!_"

Weiss smiled.

"We're not the best at communicating," she said. "That was the best way I could think of to tell you that I love you."

* * *

Corban stared at the SDC headquarters unblinkingly, his hand twitching next to the panel that controlled the Colossus' right arm and the cannon at its end. The longer he waited for Jacques to show himself, the more he was tempted – oh so tempted – to blow up the whole building. He didn't care how many more people would die, not when they worked for that bastard anyway.

But that wouldn't do. Corban wanted to see the terror in Jacque Schnee's face in the moment before he wiped him off the face of Remnant. _Needed to. _He wouldn't settle for anything less.

He was aware that the surrounding buildings had been evacuated, and that James Ironwood and his tin soldiers were gathered nearby, mounting a response. The General had tried to approach him for negotiations, but Corban hadn't listened. He knew that he had the upper hand as long as he had a lock on the SDC, and the General knew that too.

On the floor beside him, Captain Cordovin spoke up once again. "You can still talk your way out of this. It's not too late."

"I don't intend to make it out of this," Corban muttered, not taking his eyes off the building. "Never did."

Cordovin's eyes widened. "Well, that's – at least let me go, then! I got you this far, you've got no more use for me!" she shouted. "You may have a death wish, but I-"

"No use?" Corban grabbed his pistol and turned to look at her. "Now that you mention it."

"Wait-"

He shot her in the leg, the Dust round tearing a hole through her thigh. Cordovin screamed in pain, and Corban winced. She had been getting on his nerves and this was no better – he should have just killed her straight away.

He raised the pistol higher, taking aim at her forehead, but moments before he was to shoot the trigger, he caught a glimpse of white hair at the corner of his vision and turned to face the SDC again. Corban nearly bellowed in triumph as he saw a figure stepping out onto the roof of the building, not that far below from where he sat at the Colossus' head.

But his joy was short-lived. The figure was too slight to be Jacques. A look at the screens confirmed Corban's suspicions, and he indeed yelled, though in rage this time. He raised the Colossus' right arm and pointed its cannon at the figure. He charged up-

"_Wait!_" a feminine voice rang through the cockpit, captured by the Colossus' sensors. "_I'm Weiss Schnee, Jacques Schnee's daughter! I have a proposition for you._"

Corban almost shot her right then and there, but the small shreds of patience and sanity he was holding on to stopped him. He would kill this Schnee regardless of what she said, but he saw no reason not to listen to her.

"You want to negotiate for your life?" Corban said, and his voice carried throughout the block. "Easy enough. Bring me your father. No one else needs to die."

"_You're right. No one else needs to die. And I'm going to help you get what you want,_" Weiss said. "_But I'm not here to trade his life for mine._" She paused. "_You're going to kill me instead. And nobody else after that._"

Corban scoffed. "If this is your idea of a deal, little girl, you are far out of your depth. I could kill you anyway – I _will_ – but I want your father's life. You can help me, or you can die right now."

"_You're mistaken. You don't want to kill my father. You want to ruin his life, just like he ruined yours_," Weiss said. "_This isn't eye for an eye. My father doesn't care about me like you care about your son. He won't shed a tear when I'm dead. But look around you, look at the damage you've already caused, _because ofhim_. What do you think people will say about him when they hear he let his daughter die so he could live?_"

Corban watched as she took a step forward and spread her arms.

"_Kill him, and that'll be it_," Weiss said. "_Kill me, and he'll be a pariah for the rest of his life. What do you like better?_"

Corban frowned. The girl had a devil's tongue, as expected of a Schnee, but he had to admit hers was a tempting proposal. A brutal execution might sound more gratifying in the moment, but the idea of punishing Jacques Schnee for however long he had to left to live… That still would not equal the suffering he'd put Corban's family through, but it would be something.

He truly could not decide. He supposed he could see how he felt after he'd killed the girl.

* * *

Weiss saw the interior of the Colossus' cannon start to glow. She turned towards it, tucking her hair behind her ears to keep it from lashing against her eyes, and smiled.

_That's it_, she thought. _Now you get what you deserve._

This _was _what her father deserved. For everything he'd done to her. To Winter and Whitley. To her mother.

A memory flashed across Weiss' mind, of a little flower sanctuary at a forgotten corner of a garden. Of tearful eyes, of hushed words and being held in a warm embrace.

_Someday you'll wake up and realize you've given years of your life to him_.

Weiss faltered.

What was she doing here?

What was she giving her life away for?

Why was she _smiling_?

She looked up, and in that instant saw a last flash of Dust in the Colossus' cannon, before it discharged. Weiss brought her arms in front of her face, and the next thing she knew, everything was green.

She felt the roof give way underneath her, torn apart by the blast, but she did not fall. Fire weighed down her head like a crown aflame, and she felt light, impossibly light, and yet she had never been so connected with the world.

An eternity passed, and when her vision cleared, Weiss was standing upon a floating glyph, with another in front of her, slightly cracked from the impact of the blast. She lowered her arms, breathing slowly as her skin refamiliarized itself with the touch of her Aura.

She didn't feel cold in the slightest.

Turning her gaze to the Colossus, Weiss slow rose in the air until she was level with its head.

"Change of plans," she said.

_This life is mine_.


	10. This Life is Mine

"Change of plans," she said.

_This life is mine_.

Weiss sent her glyph gliding backwards as she prepared to defend herself. The Colossus' arm rose lethargically as Corban readjusted its cannon to aim at her, and she would have been able to dodge the blast completely, but the space between them was too small. But it was no matter. Weiss summoned a new glyph well in advance to block the attack, and the excess Dust dissipated in the air after the hit. She remained standing, not a hair on her body harmed.

Corban continued undeterred, launching Dust blast after Dust blast her way, and Weiss narrowly dodged all of them, turning the singular glyph under her into two smaller ones magnetized to each of her feet. She soared around the Colossus, swiftly approaching speeds too fast for Corban to get a lock on her anymore.

It shouldn't have felt this easy to get back into the swing of things, but Weiss might as well have never lost her Semblance. Flying through the air was as normal a sensation as walking, and her glyphs felt like a natural extension of her body. She had been meant for this – _born _for this.

This was her.

Corban started to turn the Colossus, its feet actually raising off the ground, and Weiss winced as she saw the damage that was causing to the street below. She brought herself to a stop and descended slightly to get level with the Colossus' head again. This wasn't the time for euphoria.

"This is over, Corban!" she shouted. "Stop immediately, or I will be forced to stop you myself!"

"_Liar! All a plan to get the jump on me! You are no better than your snake of a father!_" Corban's voice rang from the Colossus. "_And to think my son thought so much of you! _You _got him killed, Schnee!_"

Weiss winced, but she didn't let Corban's words stop her. It didn't matter if he was right or if he was just speaking from anger. The only thing that mattered was getting him to stop.

"I'm sorry about Flynt. He was a good man, and he died too soon," Weiss said. "But none of what you're doing here is going to make that better. You're not going to bring him back by hurting-"

Corban brought the Colossus' cannon-arm up in a sweeping motion, releasing a continuous Dust beam. Weiss moved aside just in time, and the beam continued past her, tearing a trail of destruction on the road. Fires erupted and smoke spread, and it was by some miracle that was the extent of the damage.

Weiss turned to face the Colossus, certain in her purpose. Corban was not going to listen to words, so now she needed to figure out a way to stop him.

* * *

Jaune held the strap of his scabbard close to his chest as he sprinted through the now mostly-empty streets of Atlas downtown. It had been hard to convince the cab driver to drop him off so close to where the action was taking place, but the knowledge that he would be helping save lives had turned the man around to the idea.

That, and the promise of a very generous tip.

Jaune had never been more thankful for Pyrrha's training. If it weren't for that, he would have lost all energy and collapsed ages ago. But he was getting close. He could see the Colossus now, and it was even bigger than he had imagined, and not nearly as awesome. It was standing in front of the SDC, swinging its cannon around wildly as it tried to shoot something out of the air.

No, not something. Some_one_.

Jaune slowed down, three blocks away from the Colossus now. He looked to the side and realized he was walking past a procession of military vehicles on the road. He kept walking, and at the end of the line found a traffic barrier, probably erected to stop anyone from going past that point, and a large of soldiers standing around. It didn't take him long to spot General Ironwood coordinating efforts close to the barrier.

"General!" Jaune called, jogging over. Ironwood didn't seem to hear. "Hey, General!"

Ironwood finally turned his head, and Jaune couldn't tell if he was surprised or annoyed by his arrival. "Mister Arc. I didn't expect you here."

"Well, it's an emergency, so…" Jaune shrugged. "What's going on over here? Who's piloting the Colossus?"

"That would be Corban Coal. He's come to kill Jacques Schnee, and he's willing to hold the whole SDC HQ hostage to get him to come out," Ironwood said. "Obviously, Jacques isn't willing to come out." He looked away for a moment, then added, "Rightly so, of course."

"Okay. So, basically, guy has gone crazy because his son's dead. Can't say I blame him," Jaune said. "Who's that up there fighting him? Is it Winter?"

"No. I'm afraid I don't know Winter's whereabouts," Ironwood said. "_That_, I believe, is her sister."

Jaune watched the figure in the sky narrowly dodge a missile and frowned. Weiss? But that didn't make sense. Unless she'd regained her Semblance somehow.

"Whatever. Doesn't matter," he muttered to himself, and faced the General again. "What about civilians? Are the people here safe?"

"We've managed to evacuate the surrounding area, except for the SDC itself," Ironwood said. "Coal isn't allowing anyone to exit the building, and he won't let us anywhere close to it either. I can't risk my men's lives without a proper plan."

"Right," Jaune said. "How can I help?"

"If you have any ideas, feel free to share," Ironwood said. "Otherwise, allow us to do our job."

He turned to talk to his subordinates again, and Jaune stepped away, his conviction cooled somewhat as he was faced with how useless he was in this situation. He was just one guy, barely a man. And if Weiss hadn't managed to stop Corban yet, what hope had he?

He stared at the Colossus for a moment, and shook his head. Grabbing his scabbard so it wouldn't fall, he ducked and passed under the barrier, coming out the other side.

"Arc!" He heard Ironwood shout behind him, and turned to see the General staring at him, perplexed. "What exactly do you think you're doing?"

"Helping," Jaune said. "You said there are people in the SDC still. I've gotta get them out of there. We can't wait forever, who knows what Corban might do!"

"You're putting innocent lives at risk with this stunt, Arc," Ironwood said, leaning on the barrier. "At best, you'll get just yourself killed. Get back here, be patient, and we'll find a way for you to help."

"General, I get it. I'm not sure I can do this either," Jaune said. "But I owe it to those people to try. So, I'm saying right now, they're not going to die." He took a deep breath and puffed up his chest. "Neither am I. Seriously, you don't have to worry about me."

He reached for the hilt of his sword and unlatched it from its scabbard.

"'Cause I've got a cool sword, and I'm at least halfway decent with it."

He saw what could only be generously described as respect in the General's eyes. "I'll have my men ready to take in the hostages. Good luck, Arc."

Jaune nodded and turned to run as fast as he could go towards the Colossus and the SDC. Not a minute later, he looked up and witnessed something that made his face go pale.

And then he ran even faster.

* * *

Weiss brought herself to a gentle hover as another beam streaked past her, missing her by mere inches. She was starting to get frustrated – it had been easy enough to dodge Corban's attacks at first, but it had gotten harder as he familiarized himself with the Colossus and its capabilities. His aim was getting too precise for comfort, and whenever she flew outside his cannon's reach, he'd resort to the guided missiles stored on the Colossus' shoulder.

Though Weiss didn't know when, Corban would run out of missiles eventually. She'd have a lot more room to breathe then. But she couldn't afford to let him deplete his resources. His attempts to shoot her down had already left the area around them in ruins. If that carried on any longer, entire buildings might start falling down, and that would set off a cascade effect which Weiss couldn't hope to stop.

She had only one priority, then, and it was higher than keeping herself safe. She had to put an end to Corban's rampage. Unable to stop him directly, and with the Colossus being too durable for her to destroy it single-handedly, she was left with the only option to disable his weaponry.

Setting her eyes on the cannon, Weiss spun her glyph so she was standing upside-down on it, and propelled herself downward towards its opening. She was dangerously close to it, and if Corban were to shoot now she would be caught point-blank, but she'd timed the seconds between the beams and knew he had to recharging yet.

She thrust her right arm forward and summoned a glyph at the palm of her hand. For it to be able to shoot such vast quantities of concentrated Dust at such regular intervals, the cannon had to be linked directly to the Colossus' Dust Core. A well-aimed shot, and Weiss would have it frozen solid. The ice wouldn't hold forever – the Core's temperature alone would unthaw it in seconds – but those few instants would be enough to send it into haywire, and the whole Colossus with it.

Mere meters away from the cannon's opening, Weiss placed her other arm under her wrist to steady herself, and took aim. She held herself there for a second, waiting for that familiar chill to surge through her body before it exited it through the glyph on her hand…

But nothing happened.

Weiss stared at her arm, perplexed. Why? What had gone wrong? She only realized what terribly danger she was in when a green glow came over her skin, and she looked up to see the Dust gathering within the cannon. Cursing, she turned her glyph over and shot upwards as fast as she could, but that proved to still not be fast enough. Her legs were caught in the beam, and though her Aura prevented them from being vaporized instantly, it didn't shield her from the burning pain.

But Weiss didn't have the presence of mind to even register the pain. Her glyph had been dissolved in the beam, and she was now soaring skyward, spinning uncontrollably like a kite in a storm. The whole world was a blur, and she tried to stabilize but was too breathless to do anything-

Suddenly she stopped – or was stopped. It took a second for Weiss to realize something was holding her, a solid _something _that all but her head was wrapped around by. She blinked and realized-

"_Got you, snake._"

She was in the grasp of the Colossus' other hand.

"_Now, time to squeeze the life out of you!_"

"Wait-"

Weiss screamed as the hand constricted around her. The pain was unlike any she'd ever felt before – and she had felt many kinds in her short life. She could almost feel her bones grinding against each other, and in instants her chest was so tight she couldn't even scream anymore.

It ended as fast it had started. The Colossus' hold loosened, and she went slack on its palm, unable to move a muscle. She didn't have a second of respite, though – she vaguely heard a jubilant shout from Corban, before he threw her away.

Like a discarded doll, Weiss flew through the air for but a second or two, before she crashed through the window of an office building. She collided against what she thought might have been a cubicle and kept on going, bouncing off the floor once, and came out crashing through another window.

Her momentum finally died as she slammed against the opposite building and plummeted into the alley below. Her head hit something along the way. And then she hit the ground.

Weiss didn't move. _Couldn't_ move. The most she could do was moan in pain, and even that was a struggle. Her cheek was flush against the ground, and she couldn't push herself up. Her vision went in and out, sometimes darkness, sometimes a blurry mess.

Tears bit at the corners of her eyes. This wasn't how it ended. It couldn't be. She hadn't chosen to live just to die like this.

She pressed a hand against the ground and pushed. Her whole body screamed in protest, a noise more befitting of an animal escaping her throat. Her head felt awfully light, and she thought she might faint, but she kept pushing. Her knees scraped along the floor as she bent them.

_Almost up… Almost up!_

She spread her other hand and pushed with it too – and suddenly lost all strength.

But she never hit the ground. Someone caught her and turned her around, a strong hand holding her up by the small of her back, while the other went to support her head. The pain exploded tenfold, and her vision started to blacken for good – before a soothing sensation spread across her body.

"Hold still. This… You look _bad_, Weiss."

Weiss blinked. The world was still too blurry for her to make out who was holding her. But she could swear she recognized that voice.

"Jaune…?" she croaked. "Is that…?"

"T-that's me, yep," he said. "Hi."

"Oh. That's…" Her vision cleared, and Weiss saw Jaune staring at her, his eyes wavering with concern. "…pleasant."

He regarded her for a moment before he diverted his eyes from hers, instead turning his attention to her arms and torso. His Aura flowed into hers, giving her the necessary strength to heal the cuts and lacerations across her skin at an inhuman rate. The bruises, though they lessened somewhat, remained.

"I'm going to lean your forward now," Jaune said. "I think you might be bleeding somewhere in the back of your head."

Weiss let him do as he said without a word of protest. His face left her field of view as he bent over her to look.

"Yeah, that's… that's a pretty deep cut, I think," he said, voice shaking. "Jeez. Your hair's all bloody at the tips…" He stopped talking for a second, as if realizing that wasn't much of a helpful thing to say. "You, uh, planning on doing a Ruby cosplay or something, Weiss?"

He put his hand where the supposed cut was, and Weiss felt it start to close. The pain was getting better every second, and she didn't feel quite as weak anymore. But now that she was able to think clearly, she couldn't ignore the deep guilt and shame that fell over her.

"Why are you here, Jaune?" she asked quietly. "Why did you come?"

Jaune leaned back to look at her. "Why _wouldn't _I be here?"

She bit her lip and looked away.

"Weiss. There's a giant death robot, like, twenty meters from where we're sitting," Jaune said. "_That_… doesn't matter right now." He gave her a once-over, then let go and stood up, taking a small step back.

Weiss wiped her eyes with her wrist and nodded. "R-right," she said, and slowly rose to her feet, bracing herself against a wall just in case. "What's he doing right now? What's Corban doing?"

"I don't know. I saw you fall here and ran over. I don't think he saw me," Jaune said. He walked over to the end of the alley and peeked around the corner, then came back to her. "He's just standing there menacingly. Weiss, how many people are inside the SDC right now?"

"Hundreds. Including my brother," Weiss said. "And… Jacques."

"No chance of _him _showing his face, is there?" Jaune said.

Weiss looked up at the highest floors of the SDC, the insane thought of flying up there and dragging her father out herself occurring to her. She shook her head. Even if she could bring herself to do that, there was no guarantee killing him would satisfy Corban at this point.

"I've gotta get those people out of there. Ironwood and his guys are three streets away, they'll be ready to protect them," Jaune said. "Problem is, I don't know how I'm gonna do that without Corban noticing us."

"I'll distract him," Weiss said.

"No way! Weiss, no offense, but you're in no condition to be fighting him again," Jaune said. "You should get to Ironwood and wait for-"

"I won't try to fight him. I can't do anything to the Colossus anyway, there'd be no point," Weiss said. "Corban's out of his mind with anger. I'll just keep his attention on me. It'll be easy."

"I think you've got a very skewed idea of the word _easy_." Jaune looked behind him, wincing as the ground shook with the Colossus' movements. "Can't you freeze it or something? You know, with your frosty pew-pew beams?"

"It's too big. Even if it weren't - I can't do those anymore," Weiss said. "I unlocked my Semblance naturally. I don't have Dust inside me anymore, so… no more frosty pew-pew beams, I'm afraid."

"Oh. That sucks," Jaune said. "I thought they were neat."

"It's okay," Weiss said. "This is the way I was always supposed to be."

She summoned a glyph and stepped onto it. She swayed for a moment before the anchoring took hold. Jaune looked at her hesitantly.

"I can do this, Jaune," Weiss said. "You healed me. I'm not going to make you have to do that again."

"…Fine," Jaune said. "You distract Corban, I get everyone to Ironwood safely. That's the plan."

"Make sure Whitley gets out of there too," Weiss said. "Grab his ear if you have to."

"Will do," Jaune said. "Good luck. Don't get killed!"

"Same to you!" Weiss yelled, and took off to the skies.

* * *

Jaune waited a minute before running out the alley. Weiss had already engaged Corban, who was shouting many profanities at her, most of which Jaune couldn't quite understand with the noise of the Colossus' cannon firing repeatedly. Weiss was dodging all his attacks, but never by much, or so it appeared to Jaune.

He looked away. He couldn't worry about that now. Weiss was doing her part, now he needed to do his.

Jaune ran to the other side of the street, entering the SDC as fast as he could. Gasps filled the air as he stepped into the lobby, and he found a crowd too big to count staring at him in surprise and fright.

Suddenly he realized he had no idea how he was going to get this many people to do as he said. Passing as a reliable authority figure to his little sisters had been difficult enough. This, and he'd never thought such a thing could be possible, would be an even bigger task.

"Okay." Jaune cleared his throat. "Everyone! If you'll, uh, pay attention!"

If he hadn't been nervous before, he certainly was now, with everyone in the lobby turning to look at him. He took a deep breath, then unsheathed his sword and held it low beside him.

"My name's Jaune Arc. I'm a Huntsman, and I'm going to get you to safety," he said. "General Ironwood and the army are just three streets over to the left. You can get there, but you'll have to move fast and _quietly_. Weiss Schnee is distracting the big robot guy right now."

He waited, but nobody seemed willing to move. Jaune winced. He couldn't blame these people for being scared, but he was keenly aware of what was going on outside. The longer they hesitated, the more likely was it for Weiss to get taken out or for Corban to realize something was up.

"Look, I get it. I wouldn't trust some random dude, even if he had a sword," Jaune said. "But you can't be afraid forever. You can either try and get out of here now, or you can wait for things to get even worse. And they _will _get worse. I can help you, but you've gotta help yourselves first!"

If that didn't convince them, nothing he did would. That was about all the inspirational speaker he had in him. But luckily, people started to move towards the entrance, just a few at a time, but that prompted the rest to follow.

Jaune sighed in relief. He spotted Whitley amidst the crowd, and before he could gestured him over, the boy marched to him all of his own accord.

"You!" Whitley said. "What did you say my sister was doing?"

"She's fine," Jaune said, raising his hands. "She's doing some… risky acrobatics right now, but she's holding her own. And she'll be doing even better once she doesn't have to worry about you anymore."

Whitley glared at him. "You had better not be leading us into a deathtrap."

"I'm not," Jaune said. He turned to address the rest. "Alright, everyone! On my mark, everyone break to the left. Keep to the sidewalk, that way Corban will be less likely to see you. I'll be right behind you!"

He turned and peeked out the entrance. The Colossus was facing away from the SDC now, with Weiss holding Corban's attention entirely. She was flying dangerously close, within grabbing range of the Colossus. Jaune could only assume she was doing so on purpose – and he'd make that risk worth it.

"Now!"

He stepped to the side, and the crowd ran out the entrance. It took nearly a minute for the last person to get out the door, and then Jaune went too, following behind at a distance. The street was in ruins, making traversal trickier than he would have preferred, but things were going well enough.

They were just a street away from meeting Ironwood when Corban's voice reached them.

"_JACQUES!_" The Colossus turned at once. "_YOU ARE NOT ESCAPING ME!_"

The cannon raised towards the fleeing group and released a burst of Dust. Weiss flew around the Colossus, fast as a rocket, and met the blast on-head before it reached them. She blocked it with a glyph, but the impact sent her off-course, and she nearly collided against a building.

Corban was already preparing another attack, and from the glow of the cannon, Jaune could tell this wouldn't be nearly as easy to block, _if_ Weiss could move fast enough to try. Feeling a cold sweat run down the back of his neck, Jaune realized he would have to do it.

Normally, if he had to tank some kind of hit, he'd just do it with his body. He had the most Aura out of anyone he knew, easily. But that wasn't an option here – the blast was too big, and as Corban was aiming at the clump of the group, it would probably fly over him anyway.

Turning around and skidding to a halt, he took his sword in both hands and held it in front him. He had an idea what he could do here. An idea that wasn't entirely plausible, but that could work. An idea that he'd thought about before, but that he'd always felt too embarrassed to give a serious try.

An idea that, frankly, had been born out of his playing way too many videogames.

The Colossus' glow reached a maximum, and an instant later it released all the Dust channeled in its cannon as a single, gigantic ball of energy. Jaune gripped his sword tighter, forgetting the rest of the world as he concentrated on it the same way he would concentrate on a person when healing them. His Aura flared to life, flowing out of his hands and into the blade, like a stream let loose from a dam…

He swung his sword upward as hard as he could, and his Aura manifested in a bright-white slash. It met the Colossus' blast and sliced cleanly through it, dismantling the Dust in mid-air, and in seconds it dissipated into nothing.

Jaune lowered his sword. He stared at it, then at the Colossus, then at Weiss, who slowly hovering to meet Corban again, and finally at the people behind him. They had reached the General, and the Army was setting up their defenses to intercept any follow-up projectiles.

He sighed in relief and grinned.

_I have to tell Pyrrha about this_.

* * *

"Corban!" Weiss shouted, stopping to hover in front of the Colossus. "You're out of hostages - you're not getting Jacques – it's _over_! Stand down now!"

"_NO!_" Corban shouted. "_YOU ARE DEAD! YOUR WHOLE FAMILY IS _DEAD_!"_

The top of both the Colossus' shoulders lifted, and a salvo of missiles closed in on Weiss from both sides. She summoned two glyphs to protect herself, crouching to a knee as her fragile Aura absorbed the shockwaves.

When the smoke cleared, she saw the cannon aimed at her and already firing. With little time, Weiss turned the glyph she was standing on towards the Colossus, leaving her parallel to the street, and reinforced it with the weakened glyphs on her hands. It blocked the beam head-on and held out for its duration, fading as soon as the onslaught of Dust ended.

With nothing to stand on, Weiss dropped for a good while before she managed to find her bearings and stabilize. She rose back up slowly, feeling light-headed again. Maybe Jaune had had a point and she shouldn't be exerting herself like this, but she had no choice. _Someone_ had to stop Corban.

Although, she wasn't doing a good job of that. So far as she'd managed to do was anger him beyond the point of return – and get the hell beaten out of her, too. But that didn't mean she should stop trying. There was a way to stop Corban, she just needed to figure out what that was.

"_I don't care what I have to do to get Jacques_," Corban said. "_I will raze this whole city if I have to!_"

He aimed at the building across the SDC, and Weiss rushed towards it, conjuring a glyph in advance to protect it from the blast. She could already tell this might be one of her last ones. The energy she was having to invest to keep the destruction to a minimum – soon she wouldn't have a drop left in her.

Nevertheless, she stood her ground. But instants before Corban would release his shot, something struck the back of the Colossus head. A swirling flame erupted from the point of impact, not enough to damage the construct in any way, but it certainly stole Corban's attention.

"I think this has gone on long enough!"

Weiss's heart soared, and she looked around frantically searching for the source of the voice – but it found her first. Winter appeared at her side, standing upon a glyph much like her own. She had a bruise on her right cheek, but otherwise appeared fine. She had a leather satchel hung around her shoulder, but Weiss gave it no mind.

"Sister! I'm so glad you're safe!" she exclaimed.

"I'll say the same," Winter said, hovering closer. "Though you don't look well at all. Are you okay?"

"I've been better. But I'll be fine," Weiss said. "I was worried about you. I didn't know where you were, and…"

"I'm sorry," Winter said. "I was there when that madman stole the Colossus. He knocked me out for a while, and then I took my time gathering the firepower to take him down."

She nudged her satchel and took out a red Dust crystal to show Weiss.

"I always carry Dust with me just in case, but this called for harsher measures," Winter said, and fixed the Colossus with a glare. "I'm afraid no amount of Dust will put a dent on that thing. It's _annoyingly_ well designed."

"_I thought I'd gotten rid of you!_" Corban shouted. "_Do you Schnees not know how to stay dead?_"

He shot at them, but Winter easily shielded them with a single hand. Weiss looked at her satchel, her mind quickly arriving to a solution.

"Winter, what kinds of Dust did you bring?" she asked.

"Take a look." Winter tossed the satchel to her, and flew away to keep Corban engaged.

Weiss kneeled and dug through the bag, hoping she could pull off her idea. If not, she supposed she and Winter would have to resort to brute force. But she was soon rewarded when she found a yellow crystal – Lightning, or electricity, the more accurate term – and a purple one – Gravity. She searched for more of the two kinds of Dust, and rose back to her feet when she had three of each in hand.

"Winter!" she called, and her sister came back at once, deflecting a blast on the way. "We don't have to damage or destroy the Colossus. We just have to disable it."

She held out the crystals, and Winter's eyes shone with understanding. "You want to generate an EMP effect. Yes, we could do that with these. And it would be poetic, certainly," she said. "But I thought the Colossus is powered by a Dust Reactor? Unless I'm grossly misinformed, an EMP would have no effect on that tech."

"You're not wrong. The Dust Core _is _the power source," Weiss said. "But that power is translated into plain electricity for pretty much all of the Colossus' functions. That's the only way they could find to supply it with the energy necessary for it to operate for any period of time. So if we disrupt its electrical systems…"

"…it may keep its power source, but it'll be as good as dead anyway," Winter said. "Excellent thinking, Sister."

Maybe it wasn't the time, but Weiss couldn't stop herself from grinning. _No Semblance needed for that._

She tossed the Gravity crystals to Winter and kept the Lightning to herself. "I'll circle around to his back, you keep to the front," she said. "When I shoot, you shoot. And take this back!"

She handed back the satchel, and Winter rocketed away, peppering the Colossus with red Dust. Weiss waited until she was sure Corban wasn't looking at her, then dropped low to the ground and approached from the back.

Once she was in position, Weiss produced a new glyph in front of her, one nearly as tall as she was. She fiddled with the crystals she was holding, temporarily daunted by the task she'd set for herself. She had never needed to infuse her Semblance with Dust, but she'd seen it Winter do it a few times. How hard could it be?

Weiss pushed the crystals against the glyph, and they shrunk the longer the contact lasted, as if being grinded away. Soon they were nothing but specks floating in the air, and having taken all their properties, the glyph was now an obfuscating yellow color, with sparks arcing off of it and biting at Weiss' fingers.

Grunting, Weiss turned the glyph towards the Colossus and reduced it to a third of its original size. Trusting Winter to be much quicker than her, she thrust forward.

"NOW!"

The beam connected cleanly against the Colossus' upper back, pouring electricity into its metallic outer shell. Weiss kept it up, bending her knees to take a firmer stance. She didn't know if the beam would last another five or thirty seconds, and dearly hoped she hadn't miscalculated. They wouldn't get another shot at this.

Luckily, Winter was quick to act, flying high and shooting her own purple beam down at the Colossus, at a perfect angle to match Weiss'. The air seemed to warp around it, as did the Colossus where it struck.

"_WHAT ARE YOU-_" Corban's voice cut off midway through. The Colossus went rigid in an instant, its left hand half-raised perpetually as it froze before it could swat Winter away.

Weiss lowered her arms, breathing hard. The Colossus was down. It was over.

_Almost _over.

* * *

The lights inside the cockpit went out.

Corban slammed his hands down on the panel, running them over the controls for the Colossus, but it refused to move.

"No. No, no, no…"

He stood up and backed away, muttering to himself. Things were supposed to end like this. He had the situation in the palm of his hands. Jacques hadn't come out – he just needed time – if he'd just had time-

A crack appeared on the glass. Grabbing his pistol, Corban ran to the other end of the cockpit and took aim with violently shaking hands. Another crack appeared, and then the whole glass shattered.

Winter Schnee dropped inside, a glyph raised to shield her from the shards and Corban's haphazard first shot. Her sister followed a moment later, a vengeful fire burning in her eyes.

"It's over, Corban," Winter said. "Put the gun down. Even if you landed a shot, it wouldn't as much as phase us. You know that."

Corban snarled. He turned his attention to the other person in the cockpit – Caroline Cordovin, drifting in and out of wakefulness as she sat against a corner, an acrid smell rising from the hole in her leg.

He turned the pistol on her. "Take a step towards me, and I'll finish the job."

Winter's eyes narrowed as she took in the situation. She shrank her glyph and relaxed her posture, as if trying to pacify him, but he didn't fall for it for one second. His finger tightened on the trigger.

"Haven't you done enough damage already?" Weiss snapped, taking a step forward. "Stop this madness and-"

"I'll handle this." Winter pushed Weiss back with an arm, never looking away from Corban. "Think this through, Mister Coal. What do you want in exchange for the Captain's life? Do you want us to let you walk away from this?"

"You don't have a choice," Corban said.

"No, I don't. If you insist on this course of action, I will have to let you go," Winter said. "But what happens after? What will you do once the Captain is safe? You're not a threat without the Colossus, Mister Coal. Do you think we'll just let you disappear?"

"I think I'll take my chances," Corban said. "I disappeared once. Why couldn't I do it again?"

"Because this time, you won't be running from a conspiracy," Winter said. "You're an actual criminal this time, Mister Coal. You _will _pay for your crimes. But you can make it better. All you have to do is surrender."

Corban lowered his pistol, but didn't take his finger off the trigger. Though it would have been easy, he couldn't bring himself to pull it. He had felt rage in his life – too much rage, and it had brought him to do unspeakable things – but never so much that it had paralyzed him. Until now.

"It's over," he muttered. "It's over. I don't have a choice."

He turned the gun and pressed it against his own chin. Winter didn't bat an eye, but behind her, Corban saw the anger drain from Weiss' face in an instant.

"Wait," Weiss stammered. "You're wrong. You do have a choice. You did all of this for your son, right? You did it for Flynt, and for your wife. So they'd get justice, finally."

"They're dead," Corban said. "Your family killed them. You killed them."

"Y-yes, but," Weiss took a step forward. "You don't have to-"

"_Weiss_." Winter tried to pull her back by the shoulder, but Weiss brushed her hand off.

"They can still get justice," Weiss said. "You can help put my father in jail. You can testify against him! He'll pay for everything he's done, and nobody has to…"

She trailed off, her shoulders shaking as she stared pleadingly at him.

Corban pressed his back against the wall behind him, a sudden clarity coming over him.

"My Flynt never wanted any of this," he said. "He was just doing what he thought he needed to. Somehow, he was convinced I was the wisest man in the world, but he was leagues ahead of me." He paused. "I failed him once in leading him astray. And I failed him again after he died."

"Yes. And you don't want to fail him again," Weiss said. "You want to make him proud? Put the gun down, and live. That's the only way my father gets what he deserves. That's the way you honor your son."

"Honor my son, by spending the last of my years in cells and courtrooms? All so Jacques gets a tenth of what's due to him?" Corban said. "Flynt wanted us to be free. Only I never listened."

"Please, you don't have to-"

"Weiss, back away!" Winter yanked Weiss back and held her with an arm around her waist. "Corban, put the gun down. You don't want to do this."

"You Schnees think you can have everything," Corban said. "But you can't. Not everything." He grinned. "Not my life."

_I'm coming to meet you, love._

"Wait-"

He pulled the trigger.

* * *

As Weiss watched Winter lay Corban down on the road, her body couldn't decide if it wanted her to throw up or to cry at the sight. In the end it couldn't settle on either, and she was left a breathless mess of a person, barely able to stand on her own two feet. She couldn't move, couldn't speak, and even as the General and his men gathered around to assess the situation, she felt like she was the only person left alive in the world.

Alive being a relative term, that is.

"I'm sorry, Sir," Winter said, somewhere nearby. "I didn't stop him. I should have been able, but-"

"Don't dwell on it, Winter. It was a difficult situation, and you minimized the losses the best you could," Ironwood answered. "You stopped him before things turned for the worse. And you rescued Cordovin from his clutches."

"For whatever that's worth." Winter took on a bitter tone. "She's in critical condition. Either she'll lose a leg or… It might have been a kindness to-"

"Let me take a look at her," Jaune interjected. "Don't worry, this is my thing. Much more than anything I did today."

Weiss looked away from Corban for just a moment. Winter had leaned Cordovin against a car, having carried her down from the Colossus first. Jaune was kneeling next to her now, Aura humming as he lay a hand on her injured leg.

Weiss brought her eyes back to Corban and felt her stomach lurch. The sight hadn't become any better in the few seconds she'd looked away.

"Jacques," Winter's voice broke through the general noise once again, tinged with anger. "He's not shown his face yet. I'll go get him."

"Stay. I've already sent people to retrieve him," Ironwood said. "You don't need to concern yourself with him right now. Take a breath, Winter. The world won't fall apart if you relax for a minute."

"But Sir, I – I failed. You shouldn't-"

"You didn't. And there are more important things at the moment, for you and me."

There was an eternity of silence, before a hand fell on Weiss' shoulder and she found herself being turned around to face her sister. Winter looked down at her, a pair of frightened blue eyes that was nonetheless the most stable thing in the world, and held her by the shoulders.

"Weiss," Winter said. "It's not your fault. He backed himself into a corner, and he made a choice. There was nothing you could have done or said."

"Whatever I did didn't matter?" Weiss said emptily. "That's supposed to make me feel better?"

"No. But you tried, and that counts for something," Winter said. "You did a lot of good today. Remember that."

It was hard to see how anything good today supplanted the bad. Even regaining her Semblance felt bittersweet. But Weiss nodded her head in agreement. Winter needed this as much as she did.

"I think she's stable now," Jaune said, stopping by their side. He wiped his hands on his shirt, wincing at the bloody mess that made. But it seemed better than leaving it on his skin. "She might wake up soon, or not. I don't know, I'm not a doctor."

He looked at Corban for a split second.

"That's just… awful," he muttered to no one in particular, before he turned his attention fully to them. "Anyway. Your brother made it out of the SDC okay. I think he's with the soldiers over there, if you wanna talk to him. Just thought you'd like to know."

"Thank you, Jaune," Winter said. "For everything. You exceeded expectations."

"I really don't know what to make of it when you compliment me," Jaune said. "I'm gonna head out. There's a bunch of people who got hurt with the Colossus stomping through the city – they could probably use my help."

"You should find a hospital, then," Winter said. "There's one a few blocks from here. Maxwell Memorial. Tell one of the officers here that I sent you and they'll drive you there."

"Thanks, will do."

Jaune stood still for a moment, looking at Weiss as if he didn't know what to say, before he patted her on the arm and jogged away.

Weiss looked up at Winter. "You two seem awfully familiar with each other," she said, trying to sound playful. It was a poor attempt – to her own ears, her voice was still hollow. "Did I miss something?"

"An awful lot, actually. I'll tell you all about it later," Winter said. "Nothing of _that _nature, heavens forbid, Sister."

"I never implied that," Weiss said. "Still – first name basis?"

"An error on my part." Winter sighed. "It's been a trying month."

Weiss tried to smile. Anything to distract her from the dead eyes she felt on the back of her neck.

"We should find Whitley," Weiss said. "He was terrified earlier. It was awful, Father almost-"

The soldiers quietened down around them, and Weiss turned her head to see what that was all about. And as if she'd summoned him, there he was – Jacques Schnee, being escorted out of the building by an armed squad. He wasn't handcuffed or anything of the sort, but he might as well be, with the way he was spitting and kicking as he was led towards General Ironwood.

"This is an outrage! General, tell your men to release me this very moment!" Jacques said. "First my life is threatened, then _this_! I won't stand for this!"

"You won't be going anywhere for quite a while, Mister Schnee," Ironwood said. "Look around you, Jacques. Do you think you can weasel your way out of this?"

"Weasel my – How dare you! Are you _trying _to pin this on _me_?!" Jacques shouted. "You're out of your mind! It was _your _vehicle that destroyed the city. This is _your _responsibility!"

"So it is," Ironwood said ruefully. "But we know why this happened, Jacques. Soon, the whole world will know. Do you think you can escape that?"

"The word of a madman? A lunatic?" Jacques chortled. "Yes, I think that should be fairly easy to disprove."

His eyes wandered across the street, stopping when he saw Corban lying cold on the ground. A smile split his lips.

"Especially considering he is a _dead _madman."

In an instant – in an infinitely small fraction of an instant – Weiss went from numb to exploding with rage. She dashed towards Jacques, a hand flying to her side as she prepared to conjure a blade. She'd almost made it to him when Winter pulled her back, holding her as if she were some vicious animal.

"You bastard! He's dead – he killed himself – and you're _relieved_?!" Weiss shouted. "I should have let him kill you. I should have dropped you in front of him myself! Do you have no – no-"

Jacques backed away, a ghastly expression on his face that Weiss might have otherwise enjoyed, if she weren't so blinded by fury. Ironwood stood between them, looking at her with an warning in his eyes.

"Weiss, you need to calm down," Winter said in her ear. "If you do this, you'll regret it for the rest of your life. Please. He's destroyed too much already."

Weiss broke out of Winter's hold and stared at her father, angry tears trailing down her face. She could see him shaking from head to toe – and she contemplated how easy it would be to make him stop.

_He's not worth it_. _Not worth it. Not worth it_.

She repeated that incessantly in her head, and turned away brusquely, forcing her hands to lie flatly against her legs.

_Not worth it_.

"Well, then…" Jacques adjusted his collar. "I think with this, I am excused. I'll leave you to deal with your mess, General."

"Not so fast," Ironwood said. "I'm taking you in for interrogation."

Jacques glared at him. "You can't do that."

"I can and I will," Ironwood said. "If you're smart, you won't resist."

"Resist? I wouldn't dream of it," Jacques said. "You can bring me in, but you have no legitimate ground to hold me. And if you try, I'll rain hell upon you and everything you stand for. That's a promise, _James_."

"You killed a man," Winter said. "You killed his family. The whole world will know."

Jacques smiled. "But you will never be able to prove it."

Winter grabbed Weiss' wrist, her hand clamping so hard it almost hurt. Weiss watched as General Ironwood looked around the street, at the destruction that surrounded them – at everything he already had in hand without taking on the most powerful businessman in Atlas – and her heart shattered.

"Actually… they will."

Weiss, together with everyone else, turned to look. Cordovin stood, legs trembling but holding her weight. She shrank shamefully under the stares of Ironwood and Winter, before she looked at Jacques and, like a true patriot, puffed up her chest.

"I can attest that Jacques Schnee destroyed Corban Coal's life utterly and completely," she said. "And I helped him all along the way."

Jacques' smile vanished.

* * *

**TWO MONTHS LATER**

* * *

"I'm sorry, Whitley. That's awful to hear," Weiss said. "Or… it's great…?"

She looked to her mother for help, but Willow just took a sip of her tea and studied her two children from under the brim of her hat. _Don't ask me_.

"I'm not quite sure myself," Whitley said. "But it's about time. Frankly, I'm surprised they took so long to boot me from the company."

He raised his hand above his head and snapped his fingers at a waitress, who swiftly came to their table, though not without a flash of displeasure on her face.

"A refill for myself and my sister," Whitley said. A moment of silence passed as the waitress collected their cups. Only when she was done did he notice the look his mother was giving him from across the table. "Oh, and thank you very much for your service, of course!"

The waitress cheered up somewhat, giving him a smile before she walked away. Willow nodded proudly at her son.

Weiss had to take a moment to acknowledge her situation. Yes, having brunch with her mother and her brother at an outdoor café was not what most people would call surreal, but to her it was more so than fighting Grimm or giant robots. It was less scary, definitely, but much more bizarre.

"Surely you have some recourse yet? Some claim to the company, even if Father was removed?" Weiss said.

"Yes, there must be something. Your grandfather founded the SDC, after all. Your _maternal _grandfather," Willow said. "Maybe I'm clueless about these corporate matters, especially after so long, but that must mean something?"

"That seems unlikely, but we can always consult an expert," Weiss said.

"I appreciate that you're so eager to help, but even if we found some technicality, I doubt the board would ever allow me back in," Whitley said. "They were concerned enough about the company's image with me at the head. And then I _dared _to suggest we divert some of our revenue to helping repair the city… They were quite eager to get rid of me then."

Weiss smiled at her brother. She'd been immensely proud of him when he'd come to her to discuss that idea. It seemed all her speeches about social responsibility had had some effect, after all. Now, if only by _some of our revenue _he meant more than a measly five percent…

Baby steps.

"So, do you have any idea what you want to do with yourself now that all that's behind you?" Weiss asked.

"I've always fancied the idea of having a doctor in the family. Or some kind of professor," Willow said. "_Or_… a professional skateboarder."

"Excuse me?" Weiss said, sure she'd misheard that last suggestion.

"I've been giving some thought to designing arcade machines, actually," Whitley said.

"_What_?" Weiss looked at the two of them. "Are you playing a joke on me?"

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't mock me for my interests, _Sister_." Whitley stood up. "I have to use the restroom. If you'll excuse me."

Weiss watched him leave, not knowing what to think. Her mother giggled, and then she was sure – they were messing with her. Great, this was just what she needed. She almost preferred when the three of them never talked to each other.

She truly didn't, though. This was just right. She only wished Winter was with them as well.

As she waited for her tea to arrive, Weiss took out her Scroll and checked on Jacques' trial. There was another hearing scheduled in a few hours, but she already knew that, of course. She planned to be there, as she always did.

Weiss had never expected the trial to be a simple, open-and-shut matter. She had fully expected Jacques and his team of elite attorneys to drag it out as much as possible. She'd expected them to bend every rule and resort to every underhanded trick to get an advantage. It had all been glaringly obvious from the moment an actual trial had become a possibility.

It didn't make watching it unfold before her any less frustrating. But she still kept up to date with every update, and she attended every hearing that was open to the public. It was only right she did those things.

"Darling, you know that's not healthy," Willow said.

"…My phone?" Weiss said, lifting an eyebrow, though she knew exactly what her mother meant.

"Your obsession with your father's trial," Willow said, unphased. "Because it _is_ an obsession."

"That's a gross exaggeration," Weiss said. "I'm just keeping informed of what's going on. There's nothing unhealthy about that."

"There very much is, when your mind's on him half the time," Willow said. "I'd rather you focus on yourself. Anything but him, for that matter."

"And you're going to tell me you're not concerned about the trial," Weiss said, rolling her eyes.

"What use is there in concerning myself with Jacques? I'm confident he will see justice," Willow said. "I'm quite glad to forget him. The only way he'll get any attention from me is if he comes anywhere close to you or your siblings. And, being the cunning devil he is, I'm sure he'll know to stay away."

She sipped her tea, her eyes deceptively clear, and Weiss was once again struck by the change that had happened with her mother. Willow appeared to have turned into a different woman altogether since Jacques had left her life – or, Weiss would rather believe, the woman she'd always been had stepped into the open again. She still had a ways to go, but Weiss didn't know if she would have survived these last months without her mother's support.

"I just need to know," Weiss said quietly. "For my peace of mind."

"Of course," Willow said, giving her a look that communicated just how little she believed that sentiment. "Do what you must. Far be it for me to tell you how to live your life."

"I appreciate that," Weiss said. _I appreciate that you care_.

The tea arrived, and a moment later Whitley returned to the table.

"Did I miss something important?" he asked as he sat down. "It looked like an interesting conversation from a distance."

"Your sister and I were discussing the merits of me buying a motorcycle," Willow said casually. "I'm a little wary of riding one of those, but she says I could easily handle it."

Whitley scoffed. "Right, _that's_ what you were talking about."

Willow looked at Weiss and raised an eyebrow.

"What, Whitley? You don't think Mother could do it?" Weiss said, grinning. "Do you perhaps think she's too _old_ for that?"

"I would be quite wounded if you believed that," Willow said, pouting.

"No, that's - I said no such thing," Whitley said, pulling on his collar.

"I'll have you know that I endeavored in many adventurous experiences when I was a young lady. Some of those could even be described as _scandalous_," Willow said. "But those tales aren't appropriate for a boy your age. And _that's_ what your sister and I were talking about while you were away."

"No, you weren't," Whitley said, completely red in the face now. "This isn't at all funny. And I'd appreciate it if you two stopped acting like I'm some clueless child."

"So you think you're mature enough, is what I'm taking from this?" Willow said, leaning back. "Well then, allow me to share with you a tale from when I was but a seventeen-year-old lass. My father was holding a gala at the family manor, and in attendance were many a handsome gentleman…"

"I didn't ask for this. You can stop now."

"No, no, you will hear this story to its completion now. There I was, in a shimmering black dress that was much too short for the standards of the time…"

Weiss giggled at the faces Whitley was making, though she was a bit flushed too. She wasn't sure how much of her mother's story had actually happened, but Weiss suspected enough of it was true for her to mortified just listening to it.

As the story went on, Weiss' attention drifted back to her Scroll. It had been but a few minutes, but she had to see if there had been any updates about the trial. But before she could check the news, her eyes froze on something else – a message from a certain individual – and she felt her chest tighten in a brief panic.

"Weiss, dear?" Willow said, putting a temporary pause to her tale. Whitley exhaled loudly and sunk in his chair. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Y-yes," Weiss said, standing up. "I have to go. There's someone I need to meet."

"Do you _want_ to meet this person?" Willow asked.

"…Yes," Weiss said. "Sorry. I shouldn't keep them waiting."

She walked around the table to hug her mother and kiss Whitley on the cheek – much to his audible disapproval – then walked away. As she left, she vaguely heard her mother resuming her tale.

"So there I was, splashing around in the fountain…"

* * *

Winter didn't bat an eye as the compactor crushed the last remains of the Colossus. She watched the conveyor belt carry off the scrap metal, and she would be lying if she said the sight didn't bring her some small satisfaction. Not much, but it was something.

She hadn't felt like herself for quite some time now. Since the Colossus and Corban, or maybe even before that. In some ways, she felt fuller, like when she visited her family. But otherwise, everywhere she looked, the world seemed to have become duller. Colder. Her sense of duty was the only thing keeping her from dwelling too long on these matters, and even then, there were times it was reduced to a mere echo of what it used to be.

Winter felt fragile. That scared her more than anything, and it made it all the more imperative that she be strong.

"That is it, then," General Ironwood said beside her.

"That is it," Winter said. "Do you think it's a waste?"

"That thing was never going to see the light of day again," he said. "At least this way, it might be useful for something."

Winter had asked him before if he was disposing of the Colossus to hopefully restore the military's image in the wake of the disaster, of if he was doing it because he felt it was the right thing. She didn't know what had possessed her to make such an impertinent question, but she'd done it anyway. The General had taken his time to reply, but she'd been glad for it, because in the end his answer had been painstakingly honest.

_Both_, he'd said.

"Future projects, you mean?" Winter asked, keeping her disapproval out of her voice.

"I couldn't tell you, Winter, as I don't yet know. But rest assured, I won't commit a mistake of this magnitude again," Ironwood said. "The safety of Atlas is still a concern. But I think through this ordeal, what I've learned is the value of individuals. Although, I'm remiss to admit, I should have known that from the start."

Winter cast him a quizzical look. "General?"

"You have never let me down, Winter. And I had Penny built for a reason," Ironwood said. "I know I can count on you both to protect Atlas." He paused. "And, hopefully, I can count on your sister too."

Winter grinned. "Perhaps if you ask politely, Sir."

* * *

Weiss met Jaune in the park, where he said he'd be.

She didn't know which of them felt more awkward, but against all odds, she suspected it was her. She couldn't meet his eyes for a second, and the way her hands trembled in his presence was entirely against what had once been their dynamic.

"So," Jaune said, putting his hands in his pockets as far as they could go. "You wanna, like, go on a walk or something?"

"I… assumed that's why you called me here, of all places," Weiss said hesitantly.

"Actually, I chose this park because it's pretty open. No obstructions in case I need to make a run for it," Jaune said. "Sorry. Poor joke. Let's move our feet!"

He started walking, and after a moment's hesitation, Weiss joined him.

"Is there a reason you're in town?" Weiss asked. "You did _actually _go back to Vale, right?"

"Yeah, I did. It was just a couple days after the whole… thing," Jaune said. "I'm here because of your d– Jacques' trial. They wanted me to testify, but it was a private hearing. I think Ironwood's been pulling strings, which is why I'm not in trouble for… you know, doing crimes."

"It was the same with me," Weiss said. "I suppose we should be grateful."

"I feel like a bit of a hypocrite, not gonna lie," Jaune said. "But it was all good in the end, right? We didn't hurt anyone. And if we hadn't hacked the SDC, we might have never found out Cordovin's involvement, and then…" He groaned. "I don't know. This makes my moral compass hurt."

Weiss nodded. Guilt was not an unfamiliar feeling for her, especially in the last months. And _especially _at this very moment.

"So, how's Vale?" Weiss said. "Were you fine moving back in?"

"Yeah, I got back into the swing of things pretty quick. I've, uh, been training with Pyrrha again," Jaune said. "Ruby picked up a new fighting game while I was away. She's been teaching me whenever we're not out on missions. Also, everyone found out I got good at making breakfast, so I have to do it every day now."

"That's… that's all great to hear," Weiss said.

"We've all been wondering about you, though."

Weiss stopped, as did Jaune. He turned to look at her, and Weiss lowered her head in shame.

"I… really meant to call you," she said, her throat dry. "I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I think I convinced myself you'd be happier if you never heard from me again, but I was just being selfish. It shouldn't have taken you flying here for me to apologize to you."

Jaune looked up at the sky, his hands on his hips. Weiss thought she saw his chin tremble, and _she _almost took off running. But he held it together, so she did too.

"I'll be honest, Weiss. What you did to me really messed me up for a while," Jaune said. "I think I'm still not over it. Maybe I never will be." He took a deep breath. "But… I don't hate you. I can still trust you, I think."

"You shouldn't. You really shouldn't, Jaune," Weiss said. "There's no excuse for what I did."

"It's not that simple," Jaune said. "You were going through a lot. And I don't think you _wanted _to hurt me, right?"

"None of that matters. I still hurt you. _I _hurt you," Weiss said. "Whatever was going on then had nothing to do with it. My father didn't make me do it. It was all me. I was selfish and egotistic and manipulative-"

"Right, I get it. Honestly, I don't really need or _want_ to know what was going through your head," Jaune interrupted her, raising a hand. "Here's the deal, Weiss. This isn't about you. I want to move on from this, I want to heal, and the way I wanna go about it is by us being okay with each other again. So if you really care, if you want to start making it up to me, you're gonna have to accept that."

Weiss frowned. "You can forgive me if you want, but that's not gonna change what happened."

"Neither will demonizing you for the rest of eternity," Jaune said. "That won't make either of us feel better."

He sighed.

"Weiss, you… _boinked _me, because you wanted to _improve my self-confidence_, or whatever. Except you were already doing that just by being a good friend and trusting me to help you. Up until you royally screwed all of that up," Jaune said. "I wanna go back to before that happened. I know you can still be that person. I want _that _Weiss in my life."

"How can you be sure that person was real?" Weiss said.

"I mean, you're still torturing yourself about the whole thing," Jaune said. "I don't know what else to say to you."

Weiss clenched her fists. She remembered the feeling of her hand striking Whitley's face, and the sight of her mother's teary eyes at the other side of the dining room table. She remembered the rage that possessed her as she followed Winter into the Colossus' cockpit, and she remembered wanting to lunge at her father and tear him limb from limb.

She closed her eyes. "I really want to be that person," she said. "I just don't know if I can trust myself."

Jaune groaned. "Weiss, you're just the worst sometimes," he said. "Whatever. You're officially forgiven, you have no choice in it."

He patted her on the shoulder, and Weiss nearly jumped out of her skin. She stared at him, wide-eyed, and he seemed to take that as permission to pull her into a hug.

"I know this is extremely awkward, but…" Jaune said. "Yeah, no, this is just extremely awkward."

"Y-yes, it is," Weiss grumbled against his shoulder. "It's not remotely nice, if that's what you were going for."

"That's not true and you know it. You're a big softie on the inside," Jaune said. "But okay, I'll have mercy."

He let her go, and Weiss stumbled back, glaring at him. "You really think you can show up out of nowhere and pull this on me, do you?"

"I do. I'm the victim." Jaune shrugged. "If you complain, you're being a terrible person."

"That's…" Weiss said. "…devilishly smart of you. And bold."

"Thanks! And that's just the beginning. I'm not letting you off the hook anytime soon." Jaune smiled. "By the way, you still have your room in the Tower, if you ever feel like moving in. Everyone would welcome you there."

Would they? She wanted to believe Jaune, but it wasn't so easy. Even if the rest of team weren't still angry with her, how long would it take for her to hurt one of them?

But she had to admit, the idea didn't sound so bad. She had her Semblance back. The only thing stopping her from being a Huntress again was herself.

"I'll think about it," Weiss said. "If anything, I'll definitely visit you guys sometime."

"Great," Jaune said. He looked away for a moment, as if contemplating something. "I've been gathering up the courage to ask Pyrrha out on a date. Maybe you could help me with that when you stop by?"

"Are you serious?" Weiss said, scowling. "So you finally getting a move-on and dating Pyrrha is _my _responsibility now?"

Jaune shrugged. "I mean, it's only fair, when you think about it. And you _do_ want to see me happy, don't you?"

"…I liked you better when you thought I was an uncaring bitch."

"See, now you're putting words in my mouth," Jaune said. "Anyway, I should go. I need to be back home before midnight, or else all my pizzas are gonna get gobbled up."

"Sounds serious. I have a hearing to get to soon, too," Weiss said. "It was nice seeing you. And again, I'm really sorry I didn't reach out."

Jaune waved her off. "It's alright. It was nice seeing you too."

He stood in front of her, and she watched the new boldness he'd been so brazenly using against her wash away. He opened his arms tentatively, and Weiss stepped forward to hug him.

It felt nice.

* * *

Weiss got to the courtroom just as it was opened for the hearing. Despite the snail-like pace of the trial, mostly attributed to Jacques' team, every hearing still pulled in quite the audience. People hadn't forgotten the damage caused by the Colossus, and they were rightfully furious at Jacques Schnee for it.

Unfortunately, that also meant Weiss was the frequent victim of venomous glares and cusses, despite her being outspoken about opposing her father. She tried not to be bothered by that, but it was easier said than done.

As one of the last people to enter the courtroom, Weiss was forced to sit at one of the benches closest to the back. At least she landed the spot next to the aisle, which meant she had a good view of the proceedings.

As the judge conducting the hearing made some last preparations before its official start, Jacques, sat with his back towards Weiss, turned to look over his shoulder. He soon found her in the audience.

It was a ritual with them. Before every hearing, they'd lock eyes, Jacques silently telling her how much he despised her, and Weiss lifting her chin to tell him she wasn't affected in the slightest. She _wanted_ him to see her, wanted him to know that she would be watching every step of his downfall with glee. His hatred only gave her life.

Not this time. As Weiss felt Jacques' eyes fall on her, she found herself unable to meet his gaze. Something cold pierced through her. In her head, a faint little voice spoke-

_What are you doing here?_

-and she stood up in the blink of an eye.

She left the courtroom in a hurry as the judge declared the hearing started.

* * *

"This is a pleasant surprise," Willow said, happening to catch Weiss as she entered the manor. "I thought you'd still be at the hearing."

Weiss closed the doors behind her, still feeling in a bit of a daze. "I… changed my mind."

"Ah." Her mother tilted her head a bit, no doubt eager to hear a more elaborate answer, but she didn't press. "I suppose that means you have the rest of the day free? There's something I've been wanting to get done in the garden, but I'd need Klein's help, and he's busy with less frivolous matters."

"I'll help you," Weiss said. "And I'm sure it's not frivolous."

Willow smiled at her. "You're too good to me, darling."

Ten minutes later, they were in the garden, Weiss on her knees, digging shallow holes in the dirt, where she then dropped seeds into and covered them up. Her mother stood by her side, gently directing her. They fell into an easy rhythm, and it gave Weiss the chance to finally relax.

"What you told me earlier today. I think you were right," Weiss said. "I've spent these last two months obsessing about Father. Which is precisely the opposite of what I should have been doing." She grabbed a new seed and stared at it for a moment. "I'm really stupid, aren't I?"

"You're not stupid. You just lost your way for a little while," her mother said softly. "It's completely understandable."

Weiss dropped the seed into a hole and used her bare hands to cover it.

"I don't think you get it. I should have known better," Weiss said. "You know I… I almost gave up my life just to ruin his. I was going to let Corban kill me."

"But you didn't," Willow said. "You didn't let Jacques control you."

"Yes, but even before that," Weiss said. "When he took away my Semblance, and my job, and everything… Eventually I just got to a point where I accepted it. I wasn't even going to fight to get what I wanted." She clenched her fists. "_Stupid_."

She dug another hole into the ground, gritting her teeth. Her mother crouched beside her, laying a hand gently on her shoulder.

"Sweetheart, you made it your life mission to fix all of your Father's mistakes," Willow said. "It's not going to be easy to move on from that."

"You're right. I get that now," Weiss said. "I'm not going to fall into that trap again."

"You won't," Willow said. "From now on, he's gone from your life. You don't even have to think about him anymore."

Weiss nodded. They were almost out of seeds now, but that was no worry, as she only needed a few more to complete this last row. Her mother stood back up, and examining their work so far, expressed her contentment with a hum.

"I met with Jaune today," Weiss said. "That's why I left you and Whitley during brunch."

"Oh. I didn't know he was in town," Willow said. "What did you talk about? I'm hoping it went okay."

"Well, I apologized. Or tried to, at least. He was very persistent about forgiving me – I still don't know how I feel about that, but I'm going to respect his decision." Weiss paused. "He said it'd be okay if I moved to Vale to live with the team."

"That's wonderful!" Willow said. "When are you planning to leave, then?"

Weiss turned to look at her mother. "Do you _want_ me to leave?"

"Oh, dear, that's not what I meant at all. I'm sorry." Willow shook her head. "No, I don't want you to leave. You've been the light of my life recently. Not to mention that you're quite handy – but don't mention that to Klein, or he'll throw a fit."

She smiled, but it was bittersweet. It reminded Weiss far too much of how she was before.

"But I think spending some time away with your friends, doing what your heart wants, would be the best thing for you," Willow said. "That _is _what you want, right?"

Weiss got back to work. They were silent for a long while.

"I can't leave now," Weiss said.

"And why exactly would that be?" her mother asked.

"Well, I just – it wouldn't be right, leaving you and Whitley," Weiss said. "I promised him I'd be there when he needed me."

"And I'm sure you will be. Meanwhile, he'll have me," Willow said. "I seem to recall you telling me it was _my _job to take care of him. Now, I am a tad late to the task, but that's what _I'll _be atoning for." She sighed. "It's not your responsibility to fix my mistakes. Or to keep me happy."

Weiss didn't reply, simply because she didn't know what to say. Intellectually, she knew her mother was right. It was the same reality she'd always struggled with when it came to her father. Their guilt was not hers – but that was a difficult thing to come to terms with.

Weiss reached the end of the row and buried the last seed. She beat her hands together to shake off the dirt, but she couldn't get it out from under her nails.

"I…" She stared at her hands. "I don't know if I deserve to do what I want."

Weiss bit her lip, trying to stave off an inevitable outpouring of tears. But instants before it was to happen, she felt her mother pull her to her feet.

"You do. You deserve the whole world," Willow whispered, touching their foreheads together. "Look around, love. You're the most precious flower in this garden."

Weiss let herself be held for a moment, shaking in her mother's arms, before she pulled away.

"Now." Willow smiled. "I think it's about time you started growing some seeds of your own, don't you agree?"

_I have mistakes of my own to fix. And a whole life to live._

Weiss wiped her eyes and nodded.

"Yes," she said. "It's about time."

**WEISS SCHNEE WILL RETURN**


	11. "IT'S HAPPENING, IT'S FINALLY HAPPENING!"

"You _said _you were going to do it," Weiss hissed. "You told me directly – _I'm going to ask Pyrrha out finally_. And yet here we are, weeks later!"

"Listen. Weiss. Listen," Jaune whispered, and looked around the living room, making sure no one else was nearby to listen. Luckily, the coast was clear. "Just because I _say _I'm going to do something, doesn't mean I'm actually going to do it."

"So you're a liar, is what you're trying to communicate to me," Weiss said.

"_No_…" Jaune said. "Maybe a coward?"

Weiss glared at him.

"Right, that's not much better," he said. "Look, you don't know how nerve-wracking this is for me. What if I screw everything up?"

"She is _going_ to say yes, Jaune. You could ask Pyrrha out by slapping her face with a live fish and she'd still say yes," Weiss said. "Please, if you won't do it for yourself, or for her, then do it for me."

"For you?" Jaune frowned. "Why?"

"_Because_, Jaune, she's been acting passive-aggressive towards me ever since I moved in here!" Weiss said. "And lately, she's been tending _heavily _towards the aggressive. Honestly, I'm starting to feel worried for my safety."

Jaune looked at her quizzically. "You're exaggerating."

"Am I, Jaune? Let me enlighten you about some events that have taken place under this very roof, then."

* * *

Weiss walked into the kitchen, pulling back her sleeves as she got ready to wash the dishes. She stopped halfway to the sink, realizing Pyrrha was already there, well into the task that should have been hers.

"Pyrrha? I thought it was my turn to do the dishes?" Weiss said.

"Was it?" Pyrrha said without taking her eyes off the sink. "Must have been my mistake."

"Well, I can take it from here if you'd like," Weiss said, stepping forward.

"No, it's fine," Pyrrha said. "I don't mind cleaning up after other people."

She looked over her shoulder and stared at Weiss.

Intensely.

* * *

"Does anyone have a three?" Ruby asked, her eyes darting from her cards to the other players at the table.

"Not me, sorry," Pyrrha said.

"Nope!" Yang said.

"Aw." Ruby pouted. "A four, anyone?"

"I have a four," Weiss said immediately. "But what will you trade me for it?"

"Name your price!" Ruby exclaimed eagerly.

Weiss looked at her cards, contemplating what she needed to secure her victory.

"Are you sure about this move, Ruby?" Pyrrha said.

"Why wouldn't I be sure…?" Ruby asked.

"No reason," Pyrrha said. "It's good that you trust Weiss to such a degree, though."

Weiss looked up, prepared to declare what card she wished in trade for her four, only to find Pyrrha staring at her.

Intensely.

* * *

"So the goal is to knock the other person off the stage," Jaune said. "The more damage someone's taken in total, the harder they'll fly when you hit them. Got it?"

"I think so?" Weiss looked at the screen dubiously. "This game sounds inane. And stupid."

"It's not inane or stupid!" Ruby shouted, jumping onto the sofa and pointing an accusing finger at Weiss. "It's only for the most hardcore of competitors! Take that back!"

"O-okay, sorry, you don't have to yell at me," Weiss said, honestly a little afraid for her life.

"It's actually more strategic than you think," Jaune said. "You don't just wanna rush the other guy. Sometimes you wanna take your time, analyze the opposition. Maybe they'll make a mistake and you can take advantage of that."

"That does sound more intricate than I originally thought," Weiss conceded.

"Yeah, and that _is _the best way to play the game sometimes. Being patient…" Ruby said grudgingly. "I bet you'll do really well because of that, Weiss."

"Yes. After all, we all know Weiss for her lack of impulsive and shortsighted decisions."

Pyrrha walked around from behind the TV to the front, and stared at Weiss.

Intensely.

* * *

Weiss stirred in her bed. She poked her head out from under the blankets and glared at her bedside clock. It was three in the morning, why had she woken up all of a sudden?

She turned to face the wall instead, but stopped when she noticed a strange shape on the chair next to her closet. A… human-like shape. Terrified, Weiss grabbed her Scroll and turned its light on that corner of the room. What she saw nearly gave her a heart attack.

It was Pyrrha, sitting with her shield on her lap. She was cleaning it with a cloth, slowly gyrating in the same perfect motion. And all the while, she stared at Weiss.

Intensely.

"P-Pyrrha?" Weiss croaked. "W-what are you doing?"

Pyrrha turned her shield so it was upright in her lap, then _slowly _ran her finger around its edge. "I could cut myself… or someone else… with this, if I was careless."

"I d-don't understand-"

Pyrrha shushed her loudly, making Weiss jump. "Go back to sleep, Weiss," she whispered. "No one will ever believe you…"

Shaking violently, Weiss slid back under her blankets.

* * *

"I _feel like_ that whole last thing didn't happen," Jaune said.

"Yes, well, that's rather the problem, isn't it?" Weiss said, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands. Now that he looked closer, it did seem like she hadn't been getting much sleep. "You need to ask Pyrrha out, Jaune. Do it, or I will do it for you."

"Hah, imagine if you ended up dating Pyrrha by accident!" Jaune said.

"This is not a joking matter, Jaune Arc!" Weiss shouted.

"Alright, jeez! I'll ask her out," Jaune said. "You'd think your life was on the line or something."

As if on cue, Pyrrha walked into the living room. She looked at Jaune and Weiss, her brow furrowing in concern when she noticed Weiss backing up against a wall, sweating rivers.

"Is Weiss okay…?" she asked.

"Oh, she's fine. It's just the Vale weather, she's not used to it yet," Jaune said. "A-anyway, Pyrrha. I wanted to ask you if you wanted to – wanted to – you know – go out to eat or something?"

"Sure, I'd love to do that," Pyrrha said. "It's kinda early for dinner, though, don't you think?"

"I meant like… a date…" Jaune said, his voice gradually lowering until, by the end, it was barely audible.

Pyrrha froze where she stood, her eyes going wide as saucers, and Jaune feared the worst. He shouldn't have caved to peer pressure. This was terrible. Everything was terrible. Pyrrha would never look at him the same again, and he'd-

"O-okay," Pyrrha stammered. "I-I'll go on a date with you, Jaune."

"You will?" Jaune blinked. "Okay! How about, tomorrow? And we don't have to decide where to go now!"

"Yeah, we'll… figure something out," Pyrrha said. "This will be fun. And – Weiss, are you _sure _you're fine?"

She leaned forward and stared at Weiss.

Intensely.

Like someone concerned for their friend.

"I-I'm okay…" Weiss said, sliding down the wall inch by inch. "C-congratulations…"

**JAUNE ARC WILL RETURN IN**

_ **JUNIPER: THE GHOST AND HIS VALKYRIE** _

* * *

Jacques walked into his penthouse apartment and immediately stomped over to his alcohol cabinet. It was pouring rain outside. The storm had caused a shortage in his building, and that had turned his already miserable day into an even more miserable night.

This couldn't be happening to him. It was all the fault of that snake Cordovin. And the dead coward. And Ironwood, who had been so ready to believe the accusations. And most of all, that accursed daughter of his!

Jacques grabbed a bottle, but it slipped from his grasp and shattered on the ground. He swore and kicked the floor in frustration. What else did he have to endure?

"It seems the walls are closing on you quickly, Mister Schnee."

Jacques jumped back. "Who's there?!"

He scoured the darkness, and eventually found the source of the voice. A man stood near the windows of the apartment, a glass of Jacques' best scotch in hand. His features were indiscernible in the darkness, but somehow, Jacques understood he was not a person to be trifled with.

"Who are you?" Jacques said. "What are you doing in my home?"

"Is this your home now?" The stranger raised the glass to his lips. "Not a bad choice. How would you like to spend the rest of your life here, instead of behind bars?"

"What are you talking about?" Jacques looked around, half expecting to find others lurking in the darkness. But they were alone.

"It's a simple matter, Mister Schnee. I'm sure a man of your caliber can understand," the stranger said, exasperated. "You have something I want. And in exchange for that, I'll ensure you'll serve your sentence in peace and luxury."

"…What is it that you want?" Jacques asked.

"That is something I will disclose in the future, once I have your trust and you have mine," the stranger said. "But I assure you, you'll find it a trivial matter, compared to what I have to offer you."

"This is madness. You expect me to trust you?" Jacques shook his head. "How can I be sure you can actually help me?"

"You don't have a choice. But I can tell you one thing to quell your doubt, and you would be wise to listen," the stranger said. "This is a dark, dark world, and soon enough it will be even darker. But I'm not afraid, and neither should you be. Because I, Mister Schnee…"

The stranger turned. Lightning struck behind him, illuminating him for a split second – just long enough for Jacques to see a face framed by a thick black mustache, and eight yellow rings, humming with power.

"…I have friends in dark places."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read the chapter for the first few days it was released, the Juniper story had another title. A much suckier title. So I changed it. Yay for the power of editing!


End file.
